Reality
by Roguie
Summary: Sometimes life isn't what it seems, but the damage done while they believed it? Well, that is never easily left behind.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Reality - Part One of Eight

Author: Roguie/ SunSpecOps/ Danae Bowen

Fandom: Primeval

Characters: Connor Temple/Abby Maitland

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Romance

Rating: M - violence, perceived death, sexual situations.

Word Count: Approximately 22k in total; 3200 this part.

Spoilers: Set Post Series 5 - everything is fair game.

Summary: Sometimes life isn't what it seems, but the damage done while they believed it? Well, that is never easily left behind.

Disclaimer: Primeval quite obviously doesn't belong to me - if it did, I'd need a whole new rating for the things I'd do to Niall Matter. :D Please don't sue, my house is small, my car is useless and my dogs are pains in the arse, but they're all I have.

A/N: This fiction is what it is because of the direct influence of evenstar_estel, tay_21, wilemina_29 and prehistoriccat. Once I put the original angst work in place, without these four directing where I took Connor and Abby from there, Reality would have ended when the second part concluded. Because of them, there are fifteen thousand words beyond what you have here, turning this carousel into a full blown roller coaster. Please, please, please stick with me through this. I know the first parts are dark and confusing, but I promise, promise there is a light at the end of this tunnel and not all is as it seems. Please trust me, and stick around for the ride - ten years ago I played with this same idea for another 'ship - it turned out so much better the second time around.

**~~~E~~~**

Long days had passed since the end of New Dawn, the end of Philip Burton, and the realization of society that anomalies existed. In those days, countries across the world scrambled in preparation, seeking guidance from the British team as they struggled to understand the change in the world as they knew it. Lester and his team, for their parts, provided every ounce of aid that they could afford; locking mechanisms, case studies, veterinary reports on some of the more unusual suspects to cross through, and seasoned members of the team spreading out to ensure the spread of as much education as possible before chaos erupted from the ashes.

It wasn't until all was set right, that the world moved on and stopped talking about the strange glowing lights that appeared across the world, bringing with them creatures long deceased, that the inquiries began. Government after government seeking someone to blame for the disaster that had taken so many lives, and whereas Lester wore the brunt of the onslaught with clever wit and a sharp tongue, he couldn't stop the eyes from turning to Connor Temple, the last remaining member of New Dawn. Connor bore the accusations well, providing just enough information and explanation to satisfy the pound of flesh being sought for most agencies, his saving grace the fact that he'd not caused the rampage of anomalies to open across the world, but instead built the machine that gathered them all into the heart of London, risking obvious danger only to his own country while at the time protecting the countries unprepared. The British agencies, however, were not pacified by this knowledge, and as the days wore on, Connor realized his future with the ARC program existed on rapidly receding stone shelves, eroding away by visit after visit of people seeking his blood.

When they came for him, it wasn't in the light of day at the ARC in relative safety, where Lester could huff and bluster whilst Connor was led to safety, but rather deep in the dark of night where there was no one to stop them from pulling him half asleep from his bed and out into the remarkably biting chill of the spring night. What shattered him, however, broke all his resolve and stole from him his fight, was the sight of his Abby being pulled out of bed with him, her blue eyes panicked and confused as her hands were tied behind her, not even allowed to change from her thin lingerie, the smallest of decencies denied them as separate cars drove them off to some place unknown.

As expected, he was questioned heavily. What was the purpose of New Dawn? Why had he chosen to help Philip Burton rather than maintain his rather prestigious position at the ARC? Had he sabotaged Burton's machine? Taken payback for the teams that had left him stranded a year prior? What was the purpose in putting England at such risk?

He had no answers. He'd vehemently denied any involvement in a plot to undermine England. He'd almost laughed at the thought of taking revenge over his time in the Cretaceous - they realized that their time alone there was the only reason he and Abby were where they were today, didn't they? Nature had put England at such risk, he'd proclaimed with a tinge of frustration, he'd only made the mistake of helping a madman make it worse.

It was when they started asking about Abby's involvement, however, that Connor finally reacted. He begged them to leave her out of it, that any punishment was his alone, that she'd tried to warn him of what could happen. He cursed them when they laughed in his face, the lover of the man behind it all must have been aware of what he was doing, yet still, she'd remained quiet. He wept, finally broken, when they told him his punishment - life in prison, but not the type he knew, one that was created specifically for crimes like his own, and Abby'd be joining him in paying his dues.

Some small, cruel part of him latched onto the knowledge that Abby'd be with him through it all, holding him to the earth as he followed his captors through the building and into the elevator that led him deep into the bowels of the building. They stopped him at a small laboratory, ushering him inside, laying him on a stretcher and tying him down. Only when he was completely secured did the door open again, a second stretcher rolled into the dark room, his heart clenching tight when he saw the unconscious Abby strapped to the bed. His cries went unanswered, however, the men ignoring him completely as they prepared the needles that they almost immediately, and quite painfully, jabbed into his arm.

Not for the first time in his life, Connor welcomed the peace of unconsciousness; at least he was spared from wondering exactly what they had planned for he and Abby while they slept.

**~~~E~~~**

The first sensation of which he was aware was the chill working through his body, a stiff ache in his bones as he stretched against the hard floor, momentary confusion clouding his perception of his surroundings. It didn't take long, however, before the memories of the night previous came flooding back, punching through the cloud of sedative like ice water over a hot pan, his confusion hissing into the dark cavern much like the gasp across his lips.

They'd taken his clothing, replacing the flannel pants he'd been wearing when they'd come for him in the night with grey sweat pants, adding a grey t-shirt and grey over shirt to his body, offering him some measure of resistance to the unnaturally damp chill in the cavern he'd been placed.

"Abby?"

His voice was rough and cracked, his throat dry from sedation and hours of silence.

"God, Abby!"

He'd spotted her in a corner, curled up against the wall, unmoving. He forced his legs under him, dragging himself to his knees, crossing the hard dirt and rock covered floor until he was next to her. He was gentle as he rolled her against him, bracing her head as he curled her into his arms, his lips pressed to her forehead as he watched for her chest to rise in silent breath. A half hour passed before a tiny groan escaped her lips, the palm of his hand instantly finding her cheek to rest against while he waited for those beautiful blue eyes to open and meet his dark gaze.

"Connor?" She frowned, her tongue darting out in an attempt to moisten her dry mouth and lips, her frown deepening as she realized the effort was useless. "Why do I feel like I've eaten a bag of cotton wool balls?"

"We forgot to do a shop," he forced a small grin to his lips, helping her as she sat up. "'S all we had. I offered to toast 'em, but you insisted they were better raw."

She looked around, taking note of the dank cavern they'd awoken within. "We're in a cave, again."

He nodded, following her eyes as they studied the dark room. "Yup. Not half as posh as the one we had just after Danny'd left tho, don't you think?"

"Connor, be serious, yeah?"

He shrugged. "Thought I was being. This one's got a creek running through it. No proper cavern'd have running water, it's a disgrace. I'll have to take it up with our captors first chance I have."

"Oh, water!"

As predicted, she was out of his arms in an instant, burning through the remainder of the sedative in her veins as she moved towards the sounds of the bubbling creek that ran against the back of the cave, appearing out of one wall and disappearing into the next. Some small mercies couldn't be under appreciated. The cool liquid was like the brush of an angel's wings as it slid down their parched throats, washing away the notion that they'd spent the previous twelve hours chewing on last weeks shorts.

When they'd satisfied their thirst, they followed the small creek to the wall, noting the small passage carved into the rock to allow the continuous flow of water. Man made, obviously. They switched direction to move to the mouth of the cavern, the light pouring through the opening florescent and unnatural, a fact confirmed by the small jolt of electricity that ran through Connor's fingers as he reached out to touch what should have been an exit but rather became another hand built extension of what nature would have once offered.

"You reckon they built this with us in mind? Y'know, never actually took us out of the building?"

She shrugged, sighing as she moved to the back of the cavern and sat on the pile of straw they'd been allocated. "Means we're still somewhere in London, then, doesn't it?"

He nodded, his chocolate brown eyes shining brightly as he explored further, fingers running over every surface to ensure his theory was correct. "Yep, 'n if we're still in London, then that means Becker 'n his men have a good chance of finding us, don't they?"

Abby sighed, turning her eyes downward as her heart fluttered painfully in her chest. A year ago, when they were trapped far from the reach of anyone they knew, it had been Connor that kept insisting they'd be found, or they'd get home; Abby'd always just managed to get on with the day. Connor had hope when Abby had resignation. Connor had determination when Abby just wanted to survive. He'd changed and grown in the time they'd been gone, become the man she'd suspected lived behind the genius everyone recognized, while she just carried on. Perhaps she'd changed as well, become a little quieter, lost that part of her that thrilled in the chase, the part of her that always stood out, but there was nothing that could be done. Everyone changes, and she certainly wasn't the little girl that spent their first night away from home in a tree, lifting Connor's spirits, and this certainly wasn't the open, if life threatening vastness of the Cretaceous. In fact, looking around, Abby's heart sank further than it had those first weeks spent waiting, hoping for rescue.

"Sure, Conn. They've never given up on us before, yeah?"

"Yeah."

This was so much worse.

~~~E~~~

Compared to their first week in the Cretaceous, the first week in the cavern was relatively easy. Twice a day a small sampling of boiled oats and bread was raised from a platform close to the false entrance; it wasn't much, but given they'd once survived on nothing more than berries and raw roots, they weren't the sort to complain. Every third day, fresh clothing was provided with their breakfast and their soiled clothing was removed on the same platform with their dishes.

The first day they'd spent separating areas of their cavern for necessities. Being as that the flow of water was continuous, they chose the area closest to the exiting wall to use as a toilet. There wasn't much available to offer privacy, but with creativity and the few loose rocks available to them, they'd sectioned off the area to at least provide a small bit of cover. Bathing was a bit easier; they'd long since absolved themselves of any need to hide their bodies from the other, so the center of the creek bed was chosen as a bathing area, and on the second morning of clothing changes, they kept the old t-shirts to use as cloth for washing the ever present grime from their skin. Since the offerings for both breakfast and dinner did not provide water, they kept the area closest to the incoming flow of water for drinking; the first morning's plastic bowls were kept and used to collect the water as it poured from the wall, the consistency of the flow the first bit of relief they'd felt since waking in captivity.

The second day, they conditioned themselves to the routine provided. Wake with the bell signifying breakfast, eat quickly what was offered, return the dishes to the platform, clean their bodies, pace the cavern looking for weakness. Connor found a great interest in the false entrance to the cavern, an electrical field that provided light but not heat.

"There's bound to be a power source somewhere nearby," he'd muttered on the third day, his fingers running over the rock surrounding the electrical field as close as he dared get to the active current. "And everything else, the air flow, the water flow... something has to be powering this place, or we'd have died from asphyxiation already."

She said nothing as he climbed rocks, sticking fingers into crevices, poking at any anomaly he found in the face of the walls surrounding them. At first, she wondered if they were being watched, but as Connor grew bolder, bouncing stones off the field of light, and then one morning the dishes left over from their breakfast, watching as the patterns of light shifted to compensate for the charge from repelling the objects, she decided that they truly had been left alone. Only when Connor slipped both their metal spoons from the platform before the dishes were returned was she absolutely positive. No one cared what they did, because there was no way to escape from the cage in which they'd been placed.

He was quiet the next few days, studying the field from across the cavern, watching as it hummed and pulsed as the hours wore on, using one spoon to count hours in the dirt floor, marking any changes he saw in the field pattern for future reference. When he approached the field the next day, counting under his breath, she thought nothing of it, for a moment. When she saw the second spoon in his hand as he got closer, her heart stalled in her chest and his name died on her lips. Abby hadn't even the time to blink before the cavern went suddenly bright, then black, and Connor was shot across the open space, landing at her feet with a thud and a puff of smoke.

Later, she'd not be able to tell you the curse that tumbled past her lips, or recall the seconds it took to get to his side, rolling him to his back, tears forming rapidly as it became clear that Connor was no longer breathing. She would vaguely remember tipping his head back and sealing her lips to his, breathing oxygen into his lungs while he was unable. She'd remember how frantically she compressed his chest, her hands over his heart, forcing it to beat while his eyes remained closed. She wouldn't remember how many times she had to breathe for him, had to force his heart to beat for him, she wouldn't remember how long she had to live for him, but the one thing she remembered clearly and would for years was the smell of burnt hair and burnt flesh, forcing the small amount of bread she'd consumed this morning to twist and roll in her uncertain stomach.

Of course, she'd also remember the cold chill that ran down her spine in a wave of relief when his dark eyes opened, focussing on her immediately, and his body came to life with a cough. He lifted a hand to his head, partially from the onset of a sudden migraine, partly to shield himself from the sudden ice in the blue gaze he loved more than any other.

"Right. That was stupid." He offered her a crooked grin as he groaned and pulled himself upright, setting his back to the wall of the cavern, breathing deeply as he took stock of the damage he'd taken.

He wasn't prepared for the moment her hand connected with his cheek, knocking him back, bouncing his head off the wall behind him. He stared at her, jaw agape, for a full five seconds, the sudden flare of uncontrolled rage in her eyes fluttering and fading as her own expression turned to mirror his surprise.

"Shit, Conn, 'm sorry."

"S'alright, love, I deserved it, didn't I?"

"Yeah, but I'm still sorry."

She sat down next to him and the both of them watched the entrance of the cavern as the field hummed and sparked and shot back to life.

"Did you see anything behind it when it turned off?" Connor asked quietly.

She shook her head silently, leaning to rest against his shoulder. "Didn't look much," she admitted, "But it seemed to be solid rock behind."

"Makes sense," he pondered. "Don't much fancy repeating today's stunt to be sure, though. Maybe tomorrow we'll have a look at the air ducts, yeah?"

"Yeah," she whispered.

Abby had already come to the conclusion that whatever this place was, it was built to contain them and the odds of finding a flaw were few and far between. Connor'd figure it out quickly enough, however; she wasn't going to be the one to bring it to his attention when, like always, he still held on to whatever small bit of hope he could find.

**~~~TBC~~~**

**In the Next Part:**

There would be no escape. There would be no rescue. Becker and his men would not come flying through whatever entrance there was to the cavern and set them free. When Connor looked up at Abby that day, his chocolate brown eyes dull and filled with sorrow, she knew he understood what she'd known since the moment she'd opened her eyes. This was their home now, and would be until their captors saw fit to release them or their term in prison ended.

**Coming Soon!**


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Reality - Part Two of Eight

Author: Roguie/ SunSpecOps/ Danae Bowen

Fandom: Primeval

Characters: Connor Temple/Abby Maitland

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Romance

Rating: M - violence, perceived death, sexual situations.

Word Count: Approximately 22k in total; 3400 this part.

Spoilers: Set Post Series 5 - everything is fair game.

Summary: Sometimes life isn't what it seems, but the damage done while they believed it? Well, that is never easily left behind.

Disclaimer: Primeval quite obviously doesn't belong to me - if it did, I'd need a whole new rating for the things I'd do to Niall Matter. :D Please don't sue, my house is small, my car is useless and my dogs are pains in the arse, but they're all I have.

A/N: This fiction is what it is because of the direct influence of evenstar_estel, tay_21, wilimena_29 and prehistoriccat. Once I put the original angst work in place, without these four directing where I took Connor and Abby from there, Reality would have ended when the second part concluded. Because of them, there are fifteen thousand words beyond what you have here, turning this carousel into a full blown roller coaster. Thank you for the trust and I promise, after this part is over, it won't hurt quite as bad again. Stick around, it's still along ride to the end!

**~~~E~~~**

The days passed slowly, so very slowly. Once Connor had exhausted all possible routes of escape that he could fathom, the hours spent poking and prodding at the nooks and crannies of the cavern ended, and time ground to an intolerable halt.

Connor began tracking the days on the far wall of the cavern; one little mark a day until they had six, the seventh line crossed out the block and a new block of marks began the next day. Twenty six blocks formed, then fifty two. When Connor crossed that seventh mark over the seventy eighth block, that's when Abby watched his shoulders slump and the remaining bit of fight flew from his grasp as he gave in to the inevitable.

There would be no escape. There would be no rescue. Becker and his men would not come flying through whatever entrance there was to the cavern and set them free. When Connor looked up at Abby that day, his chocolate brown eyes dull and filled with sorrow, she knew he understood what she'd known since the moment she'd opened her eyes. This was their home now, and would be until their captors saw fit to release them or their term in prison ended.

He cried that night and Abby held him close, his head nestled against her breasts like a child as he shook and sobbed away all the hope he'd held onto for eighteen months of captivity. They'd not been provided any grooming tools, so his hair was long and unruly, but her fingers slipped through it easily as she gave him all the comfort she could provide. They spent every single moment together, eating slowly, changing slowly, marking the days, noting the changes in each other's bodies, remembering the past as they bleakly avoided conversation of the future; in the nights they'd make love, at first silently and then without care, the wicked glint that shone in Abby's eyes only in those moments telling Connor she hoped their captors could see, that they'd know together she and Connor could never be broken. When they slept, however, that's where they parted ways.

Each night Connor dreamed of home, dreamed of friends they'd never see again, mysteries he'd never have the chance to solve, options they'd never have, life points they'd never achieve. One night he dreamed of their wedding, a day long past on the calendar they'd created for themselves, a day they'd looked at each other with sorrow and whispered the vows they'd already written without their friends there to witness, without a minister there to confirm, but they'd whispered them anyway, and that had to be enough. The day Connor dreamed of, however, was the day they'd planned, filled with food and alcohol and children running underfoot carrying baskets of flowers that were constantly tipped and spilling out onto the ground. It would have been a good day to be married, and in his dreams it was.

Each night Abby dreamed something completely different. She dreamed of a meeting that had taken place a week before they'd been taken, where men gathered and cold voices demanded Connor's life in exchange for things they couldn't explain. She dreamed of James Lester, dressed in his best, arguing with the men and the Minister for lenience and being told lenience was what would be offered. She dreamed of herself, tears pouring down her face as she considered exactly what Connor was to be put through, a life alone when he was just beginning his life with her and she remembered those nights in the Cretaceous when he'd whispered in her ear that she was the only reason he kept hope, the only reason he fought so hard to keep them alive; without her, he'd have died long ago, because alone, what was the point? She dreamed of her own voice, screaming at the cold men in suits, demanding that if Connor was to be punished this way then she would be as well.

She dreamed of the night they were taken, suddenly shaken and uncertain as strange men loomed over her and the sedative started to take her away. She dreamed of Lester leaning over her and whispering apologies into her ear, and begging her to, above all else, remember to stay strong, stay quiet and that they would pull through.

Every morning she woke with the feeling of his lips pressed to her cheek, the kiss a cover for the whisper that allowed her to open her eyes, stretch out her aching muscles against the cold, dirt floor and prepare to face the day. She'd never tell Connor, she couldn't tell Connor, but amidst it all, her heart was at peace. She believed Lester's voice in her ear, whispering to her that one day it would end and they'd come home, so when Connor could no longer bring himself to mark another day on the wall, she took up the stone and began their one hundred and fifth week below ground, one more scar in the wall, one less day to wait until they were home.

The days passed slowly, so very, very slowly.

**~~~E~~~**

On the morning of their one thousand one hundred and twenty second day of captivity, Abby slept past the audible increase in the hum of the electric field, indicating that soon the breakfast platform would lower and rise with its meagre offerings. In three years she'd not slept past that hum, so when Connor opened his eyes to the platform pushing up into place, he was surprised by Abby still in his arms, whimpering softly as she dreamed.

When she finally opened those pretty blue eyes, the smell of the warm porridge filling the room with its blandness, he could almost watch as her normally pale skin changed colour, taking on a green tinge as she lunged for what served as their toilet, her stomach emptying itself of any remnants of their previous nights meal.

It was with a slow burning dread that Connor watched her repeat the same actions each morning for weeks. They both knew what was happening, stick a genius and a zoologist in a room together, the conversation may be dull but not without intelligence, but they both stayed quiet as Abby's skin grew almost translucent in it's paleness, dark circles forming under her normally lively blue eyes, and her cheeks began to hollow quickly even while her body thickened. They said nothing when Connor ate only half of what was offered him at each meal, offering the remaining porridge to Abby who ate it without pause.

Three months passed when the dizziness came on; midmorning and mid afternoon were the worst, her head spinning, the weakness all encompassing as she struggled to be strong, but ended up sleeping until the next meal came and ended the spells. That was the month Connor not only gave her half his porridge at each meal, but now saved his toast for when her body needed more, and she took it, guilt radiating from eyes bleeding concern, but unable to fight the needs of her body and what grew within. Together they starved in silence, Connor's body growing painfully thin, every rib prominent through the t-shirt that now hung from arms without muscle, Abby's body growing thick and round at the center, but her skin held a grey pallor instead of pink, her nails were brittle and broke on contact, her teeth ached, and the parts of her that weren't filled with baby wasted away as her body struggled to feed off of what was left of her natural reserves.

There was no joy in the birth of their child, a little, pink squalling boy that was so tiny and frail neither were sure would survive his first weeks of life. They waited with held breath, feeding him from Abby's body, neither willing to name him until they were absolutely sure that the next breath he took wouldn't be his last. When a month passed and he was still with them, a little bit of fat forming over his tiny ribs and filling out his little cheeks, they let go of the breath they were holding and cried for what seemed like hours while their son slept without concern.

So it began - their life as a family of three, locked away in a dark cavern where there was nothing to do but be there for each other, laugh at each other, cry with each other. When she named the child Jamie, Connor cocked his head at her in confusion, but she merely shrugged.

"Let me have this one, won't you?" She offered him a small smile, her calm unsettling as she looked down at the child with guarded love. "I'll explain one day, Conn, promise, but let it alone for now, yeah?"

He'd give her the moon if he could, his beautiful Abby, her body unable to recover completely after the birth of their child and both knew it was a matter of time until the constant bleeding and lack of nutrition would take its toll, so he smiled at her in return. If it was to be Connor, Abby and Jamie against the world, then so be it.

While Abby and Jamie slept, Connor returned to marking the days on the wall.

**~~~E~~~**

How can a man watch his family slowly waste away, unable to do anything to help, and still remain sane? Connor asked himself this daily as a year passed by, so intent on watching Jamie grow that for once the days flew by and he was a year old before they'd noticed. A second year joined the first, and Jamie was toddling around the cavern, the only home he knew, without care. They bandaged bruised knees with scraps of t-shirts they failed to return, Jamie's only clothing the over shirts that Connor set aside just for him, their length tied up and turned into something that covered his chest and bottom, leaving his too thin legs free as he grew into his mobility.

Jamie brought them laughter in the wake of their misery; stumbling over words as he learned to speak, leaning over the platform watching with awe as the food rose and the dishes were taken away. The appearance of the supplies offered them turned out to be the biggest joy of Jamie's day, the little boy humming with excitement as the time grew near for the platform to activate. The rise of the platform served to remind Connor, however, the direness of their situation.

At first, Jamie fed from Abby's body, the need for increased supplies not demanding; now, however, as the boy grew, Connor and Abby were dividing the same amount of food that was barely sustaining them into meals for three, ensuring the little boy had as much as they could afford to help him ward off the damp air and the chilly nights.

As Jamie's third year came to pass, however, it was painfully obvious what they managed to give him wasn't enough. The little boy was pale and thin, what should have been rosy cheeks sunken, his little belly distended with malnutrition. He'd developed a constant cough that had lasted months, waking him from naps, waking him at night, keeping the small family tired, stressed and worried.

Conner's concern trebled when he watched as Abby held Jamie's small body against her own, a shadow of the overwhelming pain Connor suffered apparent, but her blue eyes were calm as she shifted the little boy's dark hair from his eyes, kissing his forehead as he drifted off into a feverish sleep.

Why their captors felt the need to let the little boy waste away, drifting off to sleep one night never to wake, Connor couldn't say. The overwhelming grief he felt, however, as they laid Jamie's little body on the platform, watching as the greatest tool for happiness he had in his life took him away from them, was perhaps the most crippling sensation Connor'd felt in years.

He couldn't understand how Abby took it so well, the tears in her eyes falling only in the dark when her heart ached and she was no longer able to convince herself of the truth in Lester's words. While he screamed and cried and voiced his anger to the world, cursing their captors, cursing the situation, she waited for him patiently, whispering to him that he'd understand one day, and everything would be made right. He didn't believe her then, he couldn't believe her, because with Jamie gone, even as tiny and as sickly as he was, nothing could ever be right, nothing could ever be fine, nothing could nor would ever be normal again.

So, they stopped talking. The small amount of food given to them went wasted as neither had an appetite, for food or for life. The days were spent staring into the vastness that was the electrical field, the silence between them all consuming as they waited for the darkness to take them as it had their son. Their nights were still spent in the others arms, shivering against the cool air, against the dampness, against the loneliness they drowned in as if it were a tangible force dragging them down. It only took a month before Abby's decimated body reacted, her lungs struggling with the same cough that had plagued Jamie for weeks upon end. When the fever came, flushing her pale skin red, the chill in the air no longer an issue as her body raged with a fire that fed from within, something in Connor's mind snapped and he lay down beside her, closing his eyes, fighting what was to come as surely as if it had been his own body.

Abby was stronger than Jamie, fought harder than Jamie. The cough and fever took away her strength, her eyes glassy, her mind unclear, but she lived on. Connor held her the days she spoke to people who weren't there, nodding and answering them as if they were a foot in front of her. Some days she and Jess seemed to be talking about decorating the flat, picking colours out for a place into which she and Connor had never moved. Some days he could almost see her leaning on a wall at the ARC, talking to Becker as if that day was like any other they'd spent working at the job they both loved. Some days he didn't understand, listening as she spoke with Lester, as she leaned forward to whisper that she understood and that she'd do everything possible to hold them together. Some days he watched her cry, watched her scream at the ghosts that couldn't hear her, telling them how she'd failed, that she wasn't strong enough, that she knew what was happening but it was breaking her heart.

"I can't," she whispered, her voice broken as she shook her head. "I thought I was strong enough, but I'm not, am I? It's too real. It's too real." She paused, shaking her head, opening her fever glazed eyes and staring wildly at whomever was in front of her. "They took him away like he was rubbish, and we've got nothing, nothing left. Bring me out," she begged, the tears now pouring down her cheeks as she lifted a thin hand out in front of her, "Bring me out, please, I can't, not anymore, not without Jamie. It's enough, yeah? It's enough now. It's enough for us both."

When she woke an hour later, her eyes were clear and focussed on Connor. "How long?" She whispered, taking the bowl of cool water he handed to her gratefully.

He shrugged, unable to meet her gaze. "Not long," he murmured. Whether he was lying over how long she'd been ill, or voicing how close she was to death, he never said. Instead, he helped tip the bowl of water to her lips, steadying her hands as they shook, holding her when she'd had her fill.

"You have to listen to me, now, Connor," she lifted an unsteady finger to his chin, forcing him to meet her gaze.

"'M listening, Abs,"

"Really listening?" Somewhere, she found a smile, offering it to him as he gathered her onto his lap, tucking her head away under his chin.

"Best as I can."

"When I'm gone," she began, pausing as he struggled against her words, waiting for him to calm. "When I'm gone, you're gonna have to go it alone, 'n I don't know how long they're gonna keep you down here." She paused again, waiting out his protest, sighing softly. "Shouldn't be long, I reckon, they won't leave you go without me, so you just stay strong and wait 'em out, would you? I promise we'll be all right."

He cried then, his face buried in her hair, his shoulders shaking as he wept, the fight and strength driven from him in an instant. "Don't go, Abs, please?"

She sighed, using the small bit of strength she had left to straighten in his arms, catching and holding his gaze with all the power and will she possessed. "Won't be for long, Conn, understand?"

"No."

She laughed. For the first time in what seemed like an eternity, Abby laughed. She pressed her lips to his briefly, stealing a final kiss before her strength left her completely and she sagged against his chest, watching the electrical field hum and throb as she listened to the fluttering beat of Connor's heart.

If ever there was a morning Connor wished he'd never opened his eyes, it was the next day. The sound of the platform rising with their breakfast roused him from his sleep, and he stretched out around Abby's body that still lay against him. If asked, he'd say he didn't know until he put his hand to her cheek to wake her and felt the coolness of skin long abandoned by life, but to himself, quietly, he would admit he knew the moment he felt her weight against him, too heavy and unmoving to house the vibrancy and life she'd always possessed.

What happened next he would never put to words, but as he lay her body across the platform, lowering his lips to her forehead and whispering a quiet goodbye, he crossed his fingers against his promise to her to carry on and knew, no matter what, he'd not hear the rise of the platform on another morning in captivity.

**~~~TBC~~~**

**In The Next Part:**

If he kept his eyes closed long enough he could still smell the acrid scent of burned flesh and hair that had enveloped him before darkness had taken hold. If he concentrated hard enough he could still feel the impact of his body against the electrical field, the way he'd hung suspended in air just long enough to feel terror course through him before beginning the short, but eternal flight through the air to where he'd landed on the other side of the cavern, understanding that he was dying even while his heart raced the few final steps to the finish line.

**Coming Soon!**


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Reality - Part Three of Eight

Author: Roguie/ SunSpecOps/ Danae Bowen

Fandom: Primeval

Characters: Connor Temple/Abby Maitland

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Romance

Word Count: Approx. 22k in it's entirety; 3500 this part.

Rating: M - violence, perceived death, sexual situations.

Spoilers: Set Post Series 5 - everything is fair game.

Summary: Sometimes life isn't what it seems, but the damage done while they believed it? Well, that is never easily left behind.

Disclaimer: Primeval quite obviously doesn't belong to me - if it did, I'd need a whole new rating for the things I'd do to Niall Matter. :D Please don't sue, my house is small, my car is useless and my dogs are pains in the arse, but they're all I have.

A/N: This fiction is what it is because of the direct influence of evenstar_estel, tay_21, wilimena_29 and prehistoriccat. Once I put the original angst work in place, without these four directing where I took Connor and Abby from there, Reality would have ended when the second part concluded. I've got to be at work for stupid o'clock today, so this is up a fair bit earlier than you'll normally see due to my not wanting to get up at stupider o'clock to post before work. Thanks for staying with me, and for all the brilliant reviews, you folks are awesome!

~~~E~~~

The first thing she was conscious of was the sensation of wads of cotton lining the entirety of her mouth and throat. Her tongue darted out to lick her lips, the lack of moisture not comforting as she opened her eyes, wincing against the blur of florescent lighting that assaulted her senses.

She coughed quietly, surprised by the absence of the ache in her chest that had been her companion for endless weeks; she could breathe without effort, drawing in lungful after lungful of air tainted only by the smell of disinfectant around her.

She blinked repeatedly, clearing her eyes of the blur brought on by being closed for too long a period of time. When she opened them again, she was met by the curious stare of a man in a white jacket, watching as she slowly became aware of her surroundings.

"When you're ready, Miss Maitland, we will undo your restraints and have you sit up."

Abby lifted her eyebrow in quiet distain as she nodded to where her wrists were tied, preventing her from clearing her eyes, from touching her face, from solidifying reality in her confused mind. "Let's call me ready, shall we?" Her throat ached with the effort, her voice dry and raspy as it slipped past her too dry lips. "While you're at it, a bit of water'd be nice too, yeah?"

She lay on that bed for what seemed like forever, feeling the strength return to her body, a body she'd grown used to being weak and malnourished. Lester had come to her days prior to them taking her and Connor, explaining to her that he could only do so much to protect them and that the punishment they'd come up with had been the most lenient he could argue considering the depths of destruction that had nearly taken place. It was her own fault she'd been there to experience the experimental technology that took the place of long years in prison. When she'd heard of the neurological prison, when a life term could be served in twenty four hours, she'd begged Lester to have her included. When she was taken to meet with Connor's judges, she'd demanded that she be taken with him, that she'd not allow him to go alone. They'd conceded in the wake of her rage, her blue eyes flashing, the grit of her teeth terrifying in her determination, and she'd signed the paperwork to say that no matter what occurred within, they'd bear no liability.

Now, as she lay waiting for the last of the drugs to pass through her body, for the endless battery of tests that came with being one of the first subjects in a prototype government project, and for the cold tongue of reality to dart out and smooth away the pain of the memories she had a hard time convincing herself weren't real, the tears came unbidden and in a rush, surprising both herself and the unfortunate nurse at her side drawing blood. She waved away the concerned woman's offer to call a doctor, choosing instead to curl her knees up to her chest, burying her face against the comfort of her own limbs as she cried. Her heart ached for the laughter of a little boy that had never existed, his stumbling first steps, his lisping first words. The ache intensified when she remembered the betrayed look in Connor's eyes as she calmly handed over the tiny body, allowing him to be whisked away as if he meant nothing more to her than a stray cat for which she'd left out a saucer of milk. She couldn't tell him, couldn't help him while he grieved, and now, when she stood on the precipice of putting the entire experience behind her, she couldn't convince her own heart that Jamie'd been just a dream.

"Too real," she whispered to a nurse too far away to catch her words, and it wouldn't matter anyway. The virtual prison had done what it was built for; a lifetime had passed since she'd laid down on this bed, they'd lived and suffered a decade in the span of twenty four hours, and they'd be hard pressed to put it behind them. It had happened even though it hadn't, and in the harsh light of the infirmary, Abby wondered if she and Connor could ever be the same.

~~~E~~~

He ached.

Emotionally.

Physically.

Literally and theoretically.

If he kept his eyes closed long enough he could still smell the acrid scent of burned flesh and hair that had enveloped him before darkness had taken hold. If he concentrated hard enough he could still feel the impact of his body against the electrical field, the way he'd hung suspended in air just long enough to feel terror course through him before beginning the short, but eternal flight through the air to where he'd landed on the other side of the cavern, understanding that he was dying even while his heart raced the few final steps to the finish line.

His lungs still struggled to pull in the gasps of disinfectant filled air, and the ties that held him firmly to his bed prevented him from sitting up or covering his eyes to protect them from the harsh glare of the lamp that hung over his face. With great regret, he opened his eyes, squinting to take in the sight of the doctors and nurses that surrounded him. He frowned, his teeth clenched tightly as he struggled against the wave of rage that crashed over him. Abby and Jamie died and they'd allowed it; he died, and they brought him back. As his heartbeat increased, his blood pressure rising, one of the nurses turned to look at him with a pitying smile.

"Take deep breaths, Mr. Temple. I know it's all very confusing, and it will all be explained shortly." Her green eyes, filled with such gentleness, calmed him at the same time as distracting him from the needle that slipped into his iv. Within moments the sedative flowed through his veins, calming his anger and forcing his eyes closed once more. "It's very mild and will wear off in a few hours," she spoke softly, her hand on his shoulder oddly comforting in the wake of all the horrible.

He couldn't bring himself to hate her, the nurse with the gentle voice, his own quiet nature winning out as he allowed the sedative to drift him away. With luck he'd dream of a happier place where his world wasn't falling apart at the very seams.

~~~E~~~

For whatever reason, kindness, pity, guilt, they allowed Abby to visit Connor just over six hours after she'd awakened. She'd signed all the necessary paperwork and climbed to unsteady feet, still getting used to the feeling of healthy muscles supporting her after what felt like years of mistreatment.

She paced outside the door to his room nervously, fully conscious of the look of betrayal that had lived in his normally compassionate brown eyes as they lowered Jamie's body into the ground. She'd thought that maybe her own death would have tempered that betrayal, but he had to sign the same release papers she did.

The first thing that had caught her attention was the bold heading on the documents, displaying for anyone to see in dark bold print her involvement in the whole ordeal.

**Program Participants:**

**Connor Temple - Male - Involuntary - Main Subject**

**Abigail Maitland - Female - Voluntary - Control Subject**

By now he'd have to have realized that all along Abby had some understanding of what was happening, and yet she'd stayed quiet until the end. The pain of loss was undeniably real, but hers had been tempered by her knowledge of their situation. Sharing that knowledge with Connor could have saved him a measure of grief and in the end, wasn't letting him suffer, regardless of the non disclosure agreement she'd signed, the worst betrayal of all?

When she entered the room with tangible trepidation, everything was quiet, which made the subtle squeak of the door's hinges sound like gunfire on a shooting range. Connor's eyes opened almost immediately, his dark gaze immediately finding her, pinning her with its intensity as a hundred emotions flickered across his face. She held his gaze firmly even while a slow burn started at her neck, flushing her cheeks under his scrutiny before he shifted to his back, settling his gaze on the ceiling tiles rather than look at her any longer.

"Why'd you do it, Abs?" he asked quietly, struggling to keep the venom from his voice.

"Not why you're thinking, I'm sure," she answered, her voice barely above a whisper.

"All that time you knew it wasn't real, and yet you said nothing. I about lost me bloody mind in there, Abby, 'n you didn't think that maybe I had a right to know?"

"Conn," she started, snapping her jaw shut when he met her eyes once more, darkness drowning the gentle man she'd always known.

"Don't tell me there wasn't a good time, 'cause any minute would'a been better than watching our son die the way he did, yeah? Bet you had a proper good laugh, didn't you, over the stupid man crying for a figment of his imagination."

The shock of his words forced her to recoil, tears springing unbidden to her clear blue eyes, guilt warring with horror for dominance as she curled her fingers into fists, forcing a measure of control into her even while she longed to scream and shout as surely as Connor needed someone to blame. "How could you think that of me? I know you're hurt 'n angry, you've got every right to be, I know, but it wasn't like that."

"What was it like, then?"

She stepped closer to him, reaching a hand out to brush a soft finger along his arm, fighting back the tears when he pulled away, keeping that small measure of distance between them. "Lester told me…"

"Lester? Lester was in on this too?" He sank back on the bed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Anyone not have a go at me brain without telling me?"

She waited until he was finished, gritting her own teeth against the defensive anger rising within her. Connor wanted a fight, but she was determined not to give it to him. "Lester told me that he was losing the fight to keep you from being prosecuted. He said the government was about to take you, but they'd come up with a prototype test, a virtual reality prison. He said, they could satisfy their need for justice and only cost us a few days." She sat on the side of his bed, plucking at invisible bits of fluff on his blanket. "I made them take me with you, Conn. When they told me what it was, I didn't want you to be alone. I thought it'd be easier with two of us, but I swear, I swear on Ja.. On his memory, I didn't know it'd be like that."

Her son's name on her lips broke the dam inside her and tears formed and welled once again, pausing only a moment before spilling down her cheeks, falling on the white sheets in the cavernous space that lay between them.

"Please, Conn…" She hated begging, God, how she hated it, but there was nothing she needed more at that moment than Connor's arms around her, holding her as her heart shattered inside her chest, pain ripping through her body like shrapnel through her veins.

He closed his eyes tightly, it was hard to stay angry when everything inside him screamed to take her in his arms, to cry with her, to divide their grief between them and begin to heal, but the small space between them seemed insurmountable while the ghost of their son clutched at his heart. That he had never been born was unimaginable; that he had never laughed, intolerable; that Abby had stood by while Connor watched in hopeless despair as Jamie faded from their lives, unforgivable. In turn, Connor swallowed his own tears, his overwhelming grief hidden behind closed eyelids as he turned his back to her and concentrated on every word to drip past his lips.

"You let me believe we had a son, and let me believe he died, Abs, you let me believe *you* died, 'n it nearly killed me. How'm I supposed to forget that?"

Words escaped her as she struggled for breath, fingers reaching for him but finding no warmth in return. There had to be something… anything to say to fix it, but in the end, she sat next to him in silence save for the sound of her tears falling without comfort.

"Miss Maitland?"

Long minutes passed before the nurse opened the door, her voice lowered as she looked discreetly towards the monitors rather than at the broken hearted woman she'd come to see.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but Doctor Rubia has asked to see you in his office. He'd like to review your latest test results."

Abby nodded quietly, rising from the bed without another word to Connor, following the nurse into the corridor. There were only a few doorways between Connor's room and the doctor's office, not enough time to compose herself, but at that point, Abby couldn't bring herself to care. Let them see what they'd done to her, at this point it was the one small protest to their treatment that she could offer.

~~~E~~~

Abby moved in a daze. Every step she took felt like her shoes were lined with lead. Every turn of her head left a trail of colour, a series of rainbows no matter where she looked. She was hot and cold all at the same time, her blood rushing so quickly through her body that she could hear the sound of it flowing past her ears. Every single thing moved as though in slow motion, and she couldn't figure out how to set it right.

She'd heard the doctor's words but she'd not been able to make sense of them at first. She'd stared at him mutely, her blue eyes wide and startled, salty tracks of dried tears staining her face, her jaw agape. He'd said something gentle, offered her a smile, perhaps even a drink of water, and maybe she'd said something in return, but she couldn't remember. At least not clearly.

It was worse when she'd made her way back to Connor's room, only to find it empty. He'd left the moment they'd given him his release documentation. He'd left without coming to find her. He'd left without a word.

They'd driven her home, the black four door sedan slipping unnoticed down the city streets. Perhaps the agents within had offered to walk her to her door, but she made her own way in silence. Something inside her whispered darkly that Connor'd not be behind that door when she stepped inside, so she took as long as possible to walk into the building and up the stairs to their flat. As such, she wasn't surprised to find her home dark and quiet, the silence allowing reality to slip past her walls and bring tears to her already swollen eyes.

The note he left her was on her pillow, his overnight bag gone packed with what she could only assume was whatever he'd considered essential so that he could be in and out quickly.

_A._

_Staying at a mate's til I can sort out me head._

_I'll ring when I'm ready to talk._

_C._

Her first reaction was to stumble to the toilet, vomiting out the water and biscuits she'd been given when she'd awakened. The tears followed, her body too exhausted to fight. When she finally peeled herself off the bathroom floor, taking a moment to wash the tears from her face, the cool water offering no relief to the stress and nausea that were quietly overwhelming her, she set her jaw in determination.

She knew she should sleep; given what she'd heard from the doctor, Abby knew she should do a lot of things differently, but the silence in her flat was oppressive, the loneliness suffocating, and rather than stay she grabbed the keys to her car and drove without thought to the ARC. Twenty minutes alone in a vehicle, driving somewhere so familiar that it required absolutely no thought, left her mind nothing to do but dwell. She'd thought she'd been doing the right thing for them, but she'd betrayed the very trust she and Connor had built their love upon. She'd thought she could explain it to him, but he'd gone without even a moment's hesitation. She'd believed they'd come out of this together, stronger, Connor and Abby against the world like it's always been, but now it's just Abby, by herself. How could she possibly be prepared for the changes about to come?

She found herself standing alone in the control room at the ARC, the lights dim, the only people there were security guards that she knew only in passing. Though perhaps it wasn't in her best interest, Abby made her way to Lester's office, on one hand loving him for the fact he left it unlocked, trusting those around him even in the wake of his airs of discontent; on the other hand cursing him for making it easy for her to take the bottle of whiskey off his shelf, pouring herself a generous glass before sitting behind his desk, looking out over everything she and Connor had helped to create.

She thought briefly about penning her resignation from the ARC; if she and Connor were truly parting ways, it would be near impossible for them to continue working together; whereas the ARC needed Connor and his genius, the animals would get on just fine under someone else's care. It only made the most sense for it to be her to tender resignation and attempt to move on. A brief flash of anger stopped her from putting the words to paper, however.

She loved this place just as much as Connor. Where was the fairness in anything that had happened since they'd returned from the Cretaceous? They'd lost their home and their pets, they'd almost lost their jobs and their lives. Now they'd lost each other. If she were any one else, the tears would have fallen in droves, dampening the papers below her fingers laying across Lester's desk. Instead, she fisted her hands on the table before looking down, originally to glare at the diamond ring she'd never once removed from her left hand since the moment she and Connor had selected it what felt like a lifetime ago. What caught her attention, however, was the folder lying beneath her hand.

**International Expansion - Anomaly Research Center - Approved**

With a slight twinge of conscious, Abby opened the folder and with great interest began reading the documents within.

If this truly was the end of her relationship with Connor, perhaps it wasn't necessary for her to make the choice to leave the ARC entirely. What the hell? She'd helped put the original ARC together, if nothing else they certainly could use her expertise setting up somewhere new.

A few weeks and a few thousand kilometres between her and Connor couldn't hurt while they sorted out what to do with their future.

She sniffed quietly.

Considering Connor's absence since they'd been released, considering the note he left her in their bed, he'd likely agree. At least, maybe when she came home, he'd be ready to hear what she needed to say about both the situation they'd been through and what she'd learned since.

Her mind made up, Abby tidied Lester's office and made her way home.

It would be nice to sleep in her own bed tonight.

Even if she would be sleeping alone.

~~~TBC~~~

In the next part:

Abby couldn't help herself and she snorted softly, earning her another dimple inducing grin from Evan Cross. "Are you always this friendly, then?" She shook her head, chuckling quietly.

"Only to lovely British women who've been dropped on my doorstep."

Abby chewed slowly in her lower lip as she looked into his lovely grey eyes, so stormy with the secrets they wouldn't betray, and she smiled.

Coming Soon!


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Reality Part Four of Eight

Author: Roguie/ SunSpecOps/ Danae Bowen

Fandom: Primeval

Characters: Connor Temple/Abby Maitland

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Romance

Rating: M - violence, perceived death, sexual situations.

Word Count: In total approx. 22k. This part approx 1600.

Spoilers: Set Post Series 5 - everything is fair game.

Summary: Sometimes life isn't what it seems, but the damage done while they believed it? Well, that is never easily left behind.

Disclaimer: Primeval quite obviously doesn't belong to me - if it did, I'd need a whole new rating for the things I'd do to Niall Matter. :D Please don't sue, my house is small, my car is useless and my dogs are pains in the arse, but they're all I have.

A/N: This fiction is what it is because of the direct influence of evenstar_estel, tay_21, wilimena_29 and prehistoriccat. Ha, this part is just a bit of setup for Abby, so nothing particularly exciting. But we do get to meet Evan Cross! :D Honestly… I'm not partial to him in the least. :D Thanks for all the encouragement and reviews, they really make a girl's day. :D

**~~~E~~~**

Life overseas was surprisingly not nearly as different as she'd expected. When her flight had landed in Vancouver, she was immediately met by a young man in a dark sedan. In a way he reminded her of Connor, dark hair, crooked grin, a dimple that appeared every time he smiled. His grey eyes, however, set them apart completely. Connor's dark eyes were warm and loving, to meet him was to almost immediately be pulled in by their warmth, his innocence open to anyone who cared to see. The man who drove her from the airport, his eyes were guarded, the grey misting smoky blue as they drove before slipping back to grey, what he was thinking hidden behind his guarded gaze, and yet, even still, Abby could see a great sadness lurking within him, hidden just as deeply as his thoughts.

They'd chatted easily about her flight, if she was tired, if she was hungry and she smiled as he watched her, quietly judging her responses before turning the conversation from idle chitchat to business at hand.

"So, they say you're the expert when it comes to these animals," he smiled in her direction, purposely keeping his expression guarded.

She shrugged, "Yeah, I s'pose so."

"How many years you been doing this?"

Why she felt guarded, she couldn't say, but she found herself shrugging again as she peered out her window, watching as they began the short trek into the city. "Five or so, off and on." She thought briefly of her time in the Cretaceous, lost and alone with Connor, depending on each other to survive, and felt the tears prick at the back of her eyes as she took an unsteady breath, clearing her throat. "Right, anyhow, Lester says the ARC here is nearly set up? That was quick, yeah?" She tried to sound impressed, she settled for sounding somewhat interested.

"Well, when the money and motivation are working cohesively," he winked, grinning the grin that brought out the dimple that betrayed his youth, "Speed is the smallest factor in the way."

"Ah, Evan Cross," she nodded slowly, turning the name over in her mind as she returned her gaze to the city line. "I've heard he's quite invested in getting the Canadian ARC off the ground." In fact, she'd heard that Evan Cross was quite the mix between Cutter and Connor; he'd been the deciding factor in expanding the operation across the ocean. He had the money, the intelligence and the connections to bring together a team that in time would rival her own. She rather looked forward to working with him, although she'd like to know the driving factor behind his passion for anomaly research. Every one of them had a reason: Cutter had Helen, Stephen and Connor followed Cutter, she, herself, had the animals, while Matt had the future to protect and Emily her past to bury. Their connections were strong, the trust between them unbreakable, their need to do what they did infallible.

Evan Cross… he'd come out of nowhere, adapted Connor's equipment for his own personal use, and along the way had put together a team much the same as theirs had been five years prior. Rough around the edges, but with the skills to make it work. In fact, Abby really looked forward to meeting Dylan Weir, the large predator specialist that Cross had on staff.

He glanced over at her in consideration for a moment, shaking his head quickly. "I was under the impression you'd been fully briefed on the team," he mentioned, quietly.

"I read through the personnel files that Jess provided, but admittedly I spent more time studying the sightings you've already faced."

"Ah," he grinned.

"What?"

"Questioning someone about their history mere moments after you've met them, Miss Maitland, has never been the social norm." There was laughter on his lips, grey eyes gone blue as he chuckled quietly, his shoulders immediately relaxing to let her know he only teased. "If there's something you want to know about me, Abby, just ask."

"Oh." Well, damn. "You're much younger than I'd expected," she muttered in her own defence, ignoring the flush of red that stained her cheeks.

"If I had a nickel for every time I heard that, I'd be… oh, wait." He grinned that cheeky grin, his tone gentle and teasing.

"Bugger," she murmured quietly, denying his charm as she fell quiet until they'd pulled into a grand community of condominiums on the waterfront a few minutes later.

"The entire team is put up in the Shoreline building, including myself. While you're here you'll have a private condo with it's own terrace that you're welcome to make your own. All your expenses are covered, of course, except for consumables. Satellite, internet and phone are already hooked up. You'll find your number stuck on the fridge if you need to give it to anyone. You'll be on the fifth floor, second apartment from the end. Dylan's in the one next to you; I assume you'll want to speak with her when you've settled in."

That caught her attention. She definitely wanted to speak with Dylan Weir with regards to humanely capturing the creatures where possible, the techniques they're using for storage and where necessary putting the animals down with the least amount of pain and stress possible.

"Ha, you claim you're interested in me, but one mention of Dylan's name and your ears perk up like a golden retriever. I'm sure I should be offended," He grinned as he opened the door for her, escorting her from the parking garage and into the grand foyer of the apartment complex. "But I'll give you a second chance."

Abby couldn't help herself and she snorted softly, earning her another dimple inducing grin from Evan Cross. "Are you always this friendly, then?" She shook her head, chuckling quietly.

"Only to lovely British women who've been dropped on my doorstep."

Abby chewed slowly on her lower lip as she looked into his lovely grey eyes, so stormy with the secrets they wouldn't betray, and she smiled.

Evan made it so easy for her to believe that perhaps rebuilding her life so far away from everything she knew and loved wouldn't be too difficult at all. His flashing dimple, his easy grin, they promised something she couldn't define. Oddly, she could see a future she'd never considered warring with the storm in his gaze, and it comforted her in ways she'd never imagined.

Her grin widened as he walked her to her flat, chatting easily about things she may like to see whilst staying in Vancouver. He opened the door for her, made sure she was settled, pointing out the obvious necessities in the unit. Everything about him was helpful and friendly, even if tomorrow, on some level, he'd be her boss.

When he excused himself so that she could unpack, he flashed his dimple one final time, letting her know that if she needed anything she could find him on the top floor and that his cell was #1 on her landline speed dial.

"If there's anything you want now, however, I could be persuaded to stay…"

His teasing grin made her laugh, her blue eyes shining for the first time since waking up on that uncomfortable cot and watching her entire life begin to crumble away.

She pushed him out into the hallway with a chuckle, agreeing to meeting Evan and Dylan for dinner in the penthouse in a few hours. It wasn't until the door was closed and locked, leaving her alone in the new apartment, silence descending like a curtain in the void left by Evan's presence, that her eyes dulled once more and a fresh flow of tears stained her cheeks.

Moving on would only be easy if she'd let it be… and Abby didn't quite know how.

**~~~E~~~**

**In The Next Part!**

Abby found herself invited to the penthouse to have dinner with Evan, not an irregular occurrence, she and Dylan spent many evenings in Evan's company. That night, however, she and Evan were alone, curled up on the sofa in his lounge, eating a grilled chicken Caesar salad that Evan had picked up on the way home. She eyed the beer he was nursing with a jealous eye, meeting his lifted eyebrow with a shrug.

That was the night that Evan managed to work his way into Abby's heart.

**Coming Soon!**


	5. Chapter 5

Title: Reality Part Five of Eight

Author: Roguie/ SunSpecOps/ Danae Bowen

Fandom: Primeval

Characters: Connor Temple/Abby Maitland

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Romance

Rating: M - violence, perceived death, sexual situations.

Word Count: 22k in total, this part approx. 2300.

Spoilers: Set Post Series 5 - everything is fair game.

Summary: Sometimes life isn't what it seems, but the damage done while they believed it? Well, that is never easily left behind.

Disclaimer: Primeval quite obviously doesn't belong to me - if it did, I'd need a whole new rating for the things I'd do to Niall Matter. :D Please don't sue, my house is small, my car is useless and my dogs are pains in the arse, but they're all I have.

A/N: This fiction is what it is because of the direct influence of evenstar_estel, tay_21, wilimena_29 and prehistoriccat. And now for something completely different…. Yeah, no. A bit of back story for my Evan, a bit of food for thought for our Abby, and a look into what passion and an unlimited pocket can do for the menagerie! Thanks again for sticking with me folks, a little bit more setup then the pay off is almost here! Posting a tad early again today because I start work far too early to do this in the morning… enjoy!

~~~E~~~

Abby had to admit, as time passed on, that setting up a brand new ARC from scratch was rather fun. As Evan privately funded the Canadian ARC, she wasn't as limited as she'd been in London when it came to setting up the facilities for the displaced creatures. In fact, Evan purchased the mothballed property of CFB Chilliwack called Vedder Creek and had it fenced off in several layers, including a twelve foot electrical perimeter fence around the forty acres of abandoned DND land. If checked, the land ownership would show rezoning for a residential community, backstopped to the Canada Land's Company for disposal. Even Abby had to admit, the depths to which Evan's contacts reached seemed unending.

Transportation was something they were still working on; Vedder Creek was more than two hours drive from the ARC facilities in Vancouver, but with the purchase of several 53' trailers, except for the very largest of their quarry, Abby figured they'd be able to discreetly relocate the creatures with a good deal of efficiency.

Originally when she'd come to Canada, she'd expected to be there three weeks, maybe a month, but as she was pushing into her second month abroad, well into the construction of separate paddocks for the containment of multiple species, there was no end in sight for the work she was doing. She was putting in long days, as well. It wasn't unusual to find her working twelve or fourteen hours, walking perimeters, testing fences, checking the piping they were building to put in fresh water sources for the various creatures. Soon motorized feeding troughs would be put in for the carnivorous species, the ones kept closest to the center of the reserve. The absolute center had been transformed into an aviary, the work and dormitory buildings located within the giant forty foot dome of wire mesh, sectioned off by a separate plexi-glass bio dome and corridors through the zone in which the creatures of flight would be allowed their small freedom. The herbivores would have the larger roaming areas, their food delivered by hand by the staff that would be living on site, currently being trained by Dylan Weir.

Abby grinned as she thought about Dylan, the red headed predator specialist that Evan had hand picked as second in command for his team. She and Abby'd hit it off almost immediately, the Canadian more than willing to meet with Abby, to go over the pictures of the creatures they'd already encountered, putting names to the ones they had yet to identify. They'd spent many nights chatting over coffee on Abby's terrace, discussing the various creatures Abby had dealt with over the years. Dylan reminded Abby of herself on some level; she was open to the concept of preserving the creatures where possible, but definitely willing to pull the trigger when necessary. She was going to work out well.

Abby, Dylan and Evan had hand picked the on site staff, ensuring iron clad non-disclosure agreements were signed by all. The background checks in place for the ARC's non-essential staff members were daunting, to say the very least. The mere concept that these people would be caring for prehistoric creatures five days a week, cut off from society, returning to the city only when their rotating shifts allowed, made the extreme measures Evan had taken necessary. These people had to be physically, intellectually and psychologically capable of handling what they were about to take on; there was no room for mistakes to be made. The interview process had been long, the clearance process longer; in the end, Abby found herself confident that the fourteen people who would make the reserve their home would make the proper decisions. Lives depended on them understanding that concept implicitly, and she and Dylan spent every moment possible reinforcing that information into their team's mindset.

When it came to pass that Abby'd been in Canada for nine weeks, it was then that Dylan and Evan began questioning the dark circles under her eyes, the gauntness in her cheeks, growing worse and worse with each passing day. At first she'd passed it off as lack of sleep, unable to get used to the change in time, then stress, followed by working too much. When Dylan caught her vomiting into a bush one morning at the reserve, she admitted a small fraction of the truth to her new friend, smiling at her wanly when the girl immediately began chastising her, driving her back to the main building at the center of the reserve where she was given water and biscuits and told to go home. Phone calls were made, and after that, she caught Evan watching her with an unreadable expression, his eyes occasionally falling to her stomach, which, while the rest of her body grew thin, expanded, giving away the secrets the doctor had been so kind to share with her the night that she woke from the awful dream that had changed the course of her life.

Everything changed on her at that point. She was no longer allowed to lose herself in her work. Evan immediately maintained that she was allowed no more than three hours a day at the reserve, having to work from the main building and having to trust the builders to follow instruction properly. She passed much of the time educating the on site staff on veterinary techniques she'd found useful in her time with the London menagerie, comparing knowledge with the new zoologists she'd helped bring aboard.

Her quiet evenings changed rapidly as well. Rather than be left on her own for dinner, she found herself, each night, in the company of either Evan or Dylan, some nights both, being watched carefully as she ate properly. Their concern only began fading when colour returned to her cheeks and once again Abby began putting on a measure of healthy weight, regaining the strength she'd let falter through months of nonchalance.

Two more weeks passed, and Abby found herself invited to the penthouse to have dinner with Evan, not an irregular occurrence, she and Dylan spent many evenings in Evan's company. That night, however, she and Evan were alone, curled up on the sofa in his lounge, eating a grilled chicken Caesar salad that Evan had picked up on the way home. She eyed the beer he was nursing with a jealous eye, meeting his lifted eyebrow with a shrug. Sparkling cider it was for her for the foreseeable future.

That was the night that Evan managed to work his way into Abby's heart.

"So, a beautiful zoologist from England drops on my doorstep, having answered my call without blinking an eye. Three months pass and unless I completely failed biology, which I incidentally earned honours in, I notice that she's very pregnant." He grinned at her wide blue eyes, shrugging as he blatantly refused to not mention the child growing inside her.

She cleared her voice slowly, guarding her reaction. "Rough break."

"Yeah, I thought so. 'Course I knew three days after I met her that she was hung up on some other guy, but I figured, if she was here and he wasn't, then maybe a rebound fling wasn't out of the question." His eyes sparkled unapologetically.

"What's your point, Cross?"

"My point, _Maitland_, is that because I was so interested, I watched her a little closer than I would the others. She's not eating right, she's barely sleeping, instead of gaining weight with that baby, she's losing it and it's not healthy. Seriously, it's getting a little ridiculous. So, I said to myself, Evan…"

Abby couldn't help herself and she giggled, regardless of the discomfort the conversation was giving her.

"Evan… there's only one thing that hurts a strong girl that way." The humour faded from his expression and his eyes grew stormy as he let his gaze wander to his large picture window, overlooking the water. "I met my wife when I was fifteen years old."

The shock was so sharp that Abby had to react quickly to keep from choking on her sparkling cider. She'd seen the ring on his finger, of course, but she'd known Evan Cross for three months and the word wife had never once crossed his lips. As harsh as it seemed, Abby assumed that wearing the wedding ring was a turn on for some of the girls he met at the clubs he frequented, and nothing but an empty story lay beneath the band of metal.

"She was twelve, a tomboy, and the biggest pain in the ass you'd ever meet. She was my buddy Jake's little sister, and she was always showing up, sticking her nose in, trying to keep up with the big boys. Jake was always trying to get rid of her, not that I could blame him, but really, I felt bad for her. Their mom died when she was little, she didn't really have friends, all she had was Jake and he wanted nothing to do with her. So, I treated her okay, y'know? She stuck around for a couple of years, then I guess she started growing up. She was seventeen the next time I saw her; I threw a send off party for Jake when he joined the Forces and was heading off for training." He sighed softly, taking a deep drink from his bottle, swallowing thickly as his voice gentled. "She was so pretty. She had all this dark hair that kinda just fell in these perfect waves, her skin was like perfect caramel, dark and soft, and she wore this dress, this blood red dress, and it was like I'd been punched in the head. I'd never fallen so hard or so fast in my life."

The agonizing wistfulness that entered his voice as he thought about her had Abby biting her lip, she found herself leaning towards him as his voice grew softer and softer.

"We were married the weekend after she graduated high school. Everyone called us idiots, she was barely eighteen, I was still in university, but y'know? Once you have it, there's no point in letting it languish."

Abby swallowed as heavily as Evan as she felt the unspoken change in his story, and without thinking she lifted a hand to his arm, settling closer to him, letting her presence be a comfort as he blinked twice, shaking his head.

"We had eleven months together." He sighed. "I'd just gotten my bachelors in science, she'd just finished her freshman year at UBC. She was gonna be a writer and the Vancouver campus offered this great Creative Writing course to go with her bachelors of arts."

She couldn't help herself, she couldn't stop herself. "What happened, Evan?"

"I'm not a stranger to physics, theoretical or practical, but the things we see every day, they challenge what we believe to be true. I don't think you can ever actually realize how much blood is in a human body until you've seen it on the ground all at once." He turned his gaze to Abby, offering her the saddest smile she'd ever seen. "Some days, I look around at all this and figure, I have more money than God and yet it doesn't help when your wife's been cut in two by the twisted metal ruins of an eighteen wheeler."

Abby was startled by the sudden tears in her eyes, brushing them away as he took her hands, squeezing them lightly. "Point is, grab love when you can. You never know when some under paid, over worked jackass is going to fall asleep behind the wheel and take it away."

Abby left early that night, retiring to her own flat, Evan's story playing through her mind with unmerciful abandon. It was hard not to wonder what Connor was doing, if he was okay, if he was happy. A tiny part of her wilted in guilt as she wondered if she were squandering her chance at love, while her greatest chance at happiness grew within her, and she glanced at her telephone longingly.

It was a shame she had no idea where he was staying. It was a sin that she was too afraid to ask.

~~~TBC~~~

In The Next Part:

Why had she never made the bloody call to London to see how he was recovering? To tell him of her changing body? To tell him where she was? What she was doing? She ran a tense hand through her hair, smothering a groan. The way he was so easily chatting with Evan, not even a note of trepidation in his voice, told her he had no bloody idea that she was here.

Coming Soon!


	6. Chapter 6

Title: Reality Part Six of Eight

Author: Roguie/ SunSpecOps/ Danae Bowen

Fandom: Primeval

Characters: Connor Temple/Abby Maitland

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Romance

Rating: M - violence, perceived death, sexual situations.

Word Count: Approx 22k in total, this part approx. 4100.

Spoilers: Set Post Series 5 - everything is fair game.

Summary: Sometimes life isn't what it seems, but the damage done while they believed it? Well, that is never easily left behind.

Disclaimer: Primeval quite obviously doesn't belong to me - if it did, I'd need a whole new rating for the things I'd do to Niall Matter. :D Please don't sue, my house is small, my car is useless and my dogs are pains in the arse, but they're all I have.

A/N: This fiction is what it is because of the direct influence of evenstar_estel, tay_21, wilemina_29 and prehistoriccat. Here we go folks, coming around the bend to the end. A little bit of payoff in this bit… :D A bit more in tomorrow's bit. :D All wrapped up in Thursday's bit. :D Can't believe it's almost over.

**~~~E~~~**

As the days carried on, further whispers were exchanged between her friends, glances sent her direction letting her know exactly the topic of conversation before they noticed her noticing and resumed normal interaction.

She really had no idea what they were plotting until she arrived at the new ARC headquarters, pulled from the reserve and driven directly there under the guise of celebrating the grand opening of the control center. It was odd, walking through the corridors, seeing the various offices built in similar structure to her own ARC, weirder still when she walked into the control room, Connor's anomaly detection device up and running at center focus, the graph of the local area being scanned calmly.

At first she thought she was the first to arrive, no one to be seen or heard anywhere in the main part of the building, but soon voices grew closer and she could hear their footsteps on the stairs down to the control center.

"Chuffed you asked for me, mate, but your locking mechanism's working as well as can be expected. Sensitive piece of equipment, that, probably just pressed a wrong button. Waste of a good flight bringing me out here, yeah?"

"Sorry about that, man, but better safe than sorry, I guess."

Oh.

Well.

Bugger.

It was funny how a voice that had brought her such great happiness through the years now sent such a chill of dread straight to her heart. Her fingers gripped reflexively at the edge of the ADD as she struggled to maintain balance while her head spun.

Bugger. Bugger. Bugger. Bugger.

Why had she never made the bloody call to London to see how he was recovering? To tell him of her changing body? To tell him where she was? What she was doing? She ran a tense hand through her hair, smothering a groan. The way he was so easily chatting with Evan, not even a note of trepidation in his voice, told her he had no bloody idea that she was here.

She looked down at her stomach, three months ago flat and strong, today rounded with growth. The bump wasn't overly noticeable from a distance, not under the too large shirt she wore to prevent the uncertain looks she got from Evan and Dylan from appearing in the worker's eyes as well. Still, when one knew someone's body as well as Connor knew hers, every curve long since committed to memory, it would only take minutes for him to realize that a child grew inside her. His child. A second chance for them to bring new life into the world, this time healthy and happy, knowing the touch of sunlight on his face, falling asleep at night, the wishes he made on the first star of the evening sky a prayer on his little lips.

Her teeth cut into her lip unmercifully as Abby realized that no matter what she'd been through in her life, she'd never been quite so afraid of facing someone as she was in that moment. She braced herself as the voices grew closer, Connor haven taken great interest in a sighting of Massospondylus in the marshland nearby. The fact that the Massospondylus was rumoured to be able to walk on twos or fours, depending on the circumstances, had Connor relentlessly questioning Dylan on the creature's behavioural characteristics. He was lost in a discussion of it's feeding patterns when he came around the corner and while Abby had her back to him, she clearly heard his step falter, the words on his lips dying off as he was met by the sight of her pulling her now fairly long blonde hair up into a messy ponytail.

She could almost hear the silent "my work here is done" radiating off Evan as he offered her a smug grin, flashing his dimple as he walked past her.

""Oh, hey, Abby, we have another guest from the British ARC."

"Really?" The sarcasm in her voice wasn't hidden in the slightest.

"Yep. You must've worked alongside him at some point. Connor Temple?"

Her blue eyes rolled before filling with accusation, pinning Evan with a sharp stare as his grin grew wider in the face of her disdain. She lifted gentle fingers to her head, massaging away the sudden blistering pain in her temple, thinking she'd not feel better until her foot connected with the current pain in her arse who dared to let his dimple show and his grey eyes sparkle and dance with pleasure.

"Yeah," she sighed. "We may've worked together a time or two, hey, Conn?"

They stared at each other silently, Abby not knowing what to say, the rushing of blood through her mind weakening her knees as she waited. She saw the look of uncertainty in Connor's eyes, the concern as he took in the dark circles under her eyes, and for a single desperate moment she wished he wasn't able to control the twitch of his fingers as they automatically began to reach for her that instead ended up at his side.

Evan circled the pair uncomfortably, his eyes stormy grey as he took in the sight of them and the emotional avoidance the two seemed to have down to a proper skill. He'd tried to do this the nice way, but whatever walls they'd managed to put up in the last three months stood tall against the other. He grit his teeth together, shaking his head slowly; they were leaving him with no choice but to play just a little dirty.

"Well, we'll just have to catch up over dinner," Evan smiled warmly as he slipped in between the two, his warm hand curling around Abby's elbow as he began to turn her away. "Come by the penthouse when you're through here, Connor, and we'll order something in. Dylan will drive you over, won't you, Dylan?" His eyes narrowed as he caught the gaze of the red-head, giving her an almost imperceptible nudge with his chin before starting towards the door, Abby in tow. "I'll give you a lift back to the penthouse now, Abby, so you have time to get ready for dinner."

Abby, who through the entire conversation hadn't been able to pull her shocked blue eyes from Connor's dark gaze, moved quietly as she was directed, the distance between them widening as she moved closer and closer to the door.

She couldn't believe how quiet Connor was being; had he truly cut her out of his heart? Seeing her hadn't brought up anything at all? Evan's arm slipped across her back, holding her steady as the trembles began to visibly shake her body.

"Stay with me," he whispered in a voice so low only Abby could hear. "Trust me, just a minute more."

They made it to the door, Evan holding it open for her with one hand, keeping her upright with the other, now held so tight to his body that it was only his frame keeping her on her feet. He wasn't a religious man, he and God didn't see eye to eye on most days, but he shot a silent prayer into the heavens for the little blonde that had befriended them all in a very short period of time.

Let me be right, he prayed silently, hoping that for once, through this completely unselfish endeavour, God would be on his side.

"Oi!"

The cry was cut off by the door shutting behind them, but they'd heard it anyway. Abby's knees went out entirely from under her and Evan pulled her back up, holding him against her as he silently gave thanks to whatever was watching out for him that day.

"Told you," he whispered, his dimple popping as he smiled at her, hoping his calm voice was enough to keep her with him until Connor came to his senses. "Guys are all the same, money or not, genius or normal, three months or three years, we're all the same, cavemen. Just because he's pissed, doesn't mean he's not going to thump his chest and come rescue his girl."

It was enough to bring a moment of laughter to Abby's lips, even while Evan lifted a finger to stop her from anything more than a smile. He shrugged quickly and offered her a grin.

"He's buying when you've made up, y'know. It's the only way I'm gonna forgive him."

"Forgive him what?"

When the door flew inwards, Evan was well prepared for the ferocity in Connor's eyes as he paused only long enough to assimilate the image of Abby leaning against Evan's chest. Evan made no attempt to tell Connor it wasn't what it looked like, but wasn't quite able to stop the grin from spreading across his face as Connor's dark eyes flashed, his teeth grinding tightly together, his fingers curved into fists only a moment before those very fists connected with Evan's jaw.

Evan resisted the urge to curse, using the wall for support as he shook off the feeling of his brain rattling inside his skull, his tongue darting out to test the raw skin at the corner of his mouth. Sure enough, he tasted blood, but rather than anger, when he looked up at Connor, his grey eyes were filled with mirth.

"That's my girl, mate."

Yep. Cavemen.

"No offence, friend, but then you'd best act like it, don't you think?"

He wiped his hand across the small blood trail at his mouth, catching Abby's startled gaze as he straightened. "You'll be okay?"

"Yeah," she nodded, shock making her voice tremble, but she was standing now without support.

"Then I'll see you at home. The offer for dinner still stands when you've got this out of your system. Just… make sure it's out of your system first, I don't want to be uncomfortable in my own home." He winked at her, grinning wickedly as he offered Connor a short wave and disappeared down the hallway out into the parking garage.

The things he'd found himself doing lately for friendship would have made the old Evan laugh. New Evan? Well, he was pretty okay with helping out where necessary.

**~~~E~~~**

While Connor watched Evan disappear down the hallway, Abby moved to the stairwell where she could sit quietly, taking the weight off her shaking limbs as nausea welled within her, her hear pounding so heavily there was no way Connor couldn't hear it. She was sure he had, in fact, when he turned to face her, the anger that had clouded his face moments before transcending into concern as he noted her pale complexion and dark eyes.

He dropped to his knees in front of her, his hands immediately finding her own in her lap as he stared up at her quietly, cocking his head to the side, his dark eyes swimming with emotion.

"You've not been proper caring for yourself, Abs."

Her lungs seized silently, her breath stalling in her lungs as her heart faltered. She lifted a trembling hand to cup his cheek, holding her cool fingers against his warm flesh.

For years she went through life alone, never needing another person, never wanting another person to lean on. In her solitude she was strong, her heart well protected from pain, but somewhere down the line, with his warm chocolate eyes and unruly hair, Connor had worked his way past her barriers and became an integral part of her soul. He could hurt her, has hurt her, is hurting her, and as the tears welled up in her eyes, her hands so warm and safe in his, the shock of the last few months settled in. The tremors began at her toes and worked their way up her legs, expanding to her arms, engulfing her body. She hated weakness, every single moment of this went against who she believed herself to be, but she couldn't stop, not under the gentle caress of a gaze she'd been missing as if she'd lost a part of herself.

"Oh, Abby."

She heard the soft exclamation escape his lips only seconds before the dam holding her together burst wide open and tears began to pour down her pale cheeks. Once the tears came, the words came too, tumbling from her lips without edit.

"I'm sorry, Connor, I never meant for you to get hurt, not like that, never like that. I just… I didn't want you to be alone in there and didn't know any other way to stay by your side."

She was afraid to meet his eyes, afraid that what she needed to see wouldn't be there, that his resolve would be hardened against her. She stared instead at their hands interconnected on her lap, hers small and pale, his large and covered in his ridiculous fingerless gloves. She was comforted in the very least by small things remaining constant. Odd, where she found hope.

"I didn't know at first," she whispered, her voice breaking under the stress of her words. "Not really. But the dreams came 'n they seemed so familiar. I wanted to tell you, Conn, I truly did, but I just knew if I tried they'd have pulled me out 'n I couldn't leave you alone. Not there."

He listened silently, squeezing her hands softly when she refused to meet his eyes. She expected a rehash of his anger, a bit of accusation, an explanation of his hurt just enough to gut her from the guilt she'd been drowning within. Instead, Connor proved once again, how it was he'd managed to slip into her life, brick by brick deconstructing her walls until there was nothing left to stand between them and their growing love.

"How're you doing with it all?"

It was enough to make her cry all the harder.

"Huh. That well, yeah?"

It was enough to make her laugh through her tears.

She had to seem some kind of crazy to him, battling between tears and laughter, fighting for control over her own skewed emotions while he sat in front of her, squeezing her hands. She managed to shrug softly, sniffling quietly before daring a glance up, her watery blue eyes instantly taking in the concerned wrinkle that formed across Connor's forehead, his ghost of a smile chased away by worry.

"I," she started hesitantly, swallowing her terror as she trembled under his gentle hands. "I know how hard it was to… to… lose Jamie."

There, she'd said it. His name had fallen from her lips here, in this world, away from that place, and there was no way to take it back. He was real.

"Abby…"

"Shut it, Connor, and let me talk, yeah? 'Cause the last time you wouldn't 'n I ended up here." She took a deep breath before starting again. "I know you think because I knew it wasn't real, I didn't feel it all just as deeply. Maybe I acted like that? Maybe I went about it all wrong, but it was just as real to me as it was happening. Conn, I felt him growing inside my body. I gave birth to him in as much pain as I will our next child and I didn't think of him as a figment, he was my baby as much as yours."

The tears didn't stop once they started, her poor broken heart crumbling into the cavern left by the last foot of space between them. She pulled her hands from his, wiping at her tears angrily as she tried to curl her knees up closer to her body. When her breath caught on a sob, however, her body unable to fill her lungs as she shook, all she found herself doing was leaning over the stairwell and purging her lunch, noisily and in agony, which just made her cry all the harder.

It was too much, too much for any one person to handle, and although Evan and Dylan had been there to help her hold the pieces together, right now she needed nothing more than to fall apart in Connor's arms, safe from the world, until her heart had spilled enough hurt to begin to mend.

Connor was never very good with words. They locked up his tongue like he'd swallowed a cocktail of duct tape and glue and people usually ended up staring at him like he'd gone mad. He never managed to say what he meant, he never managed to say what he needed, he always either shut up or acquiesced to whatever was needed of him. In the end, Connor got the short stick of every pile he'd picked from and never said a word about it.

Be the bait, he was told, and he'd stare blankly at the oncoming creature as if this had made sense. Jump in that hole, someone would demand, and he'd always be the first one to stick his head into the darkness of beyond, whether they gave him a gun or not.

In his life, more species of dinosaur and prehistoric creatures had been distracted by him, had tried to make a meal of him, than any pack of small herbivores in the Cretaceous could ever imagine.

He'd never once spoken up for himself, not until the government got in on it, taking away from him everything he had ever known, stripping him of reality, giving and taking from him all the things he loved. That's when he found his words, his angry words, words bred from years of being everyone's bait, everyone's scapegoat, but instead of it being the government standing there that day, instead of it being Cutter, or Lester, or Danny or Burton, hell, instead of it being his bloody dad, it had been Abby. Abby who'd come to him the moment they'd allow. Abby who'd put herself through hell because she refused to leave him alone. Abby who'd lost a child as surely as he had, but with it she'd lost her love, her home, her job, her entire life and still managed to spare not a single cross word for him as he stood there and broke her heart.

"I'm a bloody pillock, aren't I?" he murmured quietly, leaning forward to rest his forehead against hers as she struggled for some semblance of control.

"Oh, no, no, no, Connor, if anyone's done wrong here, it's me! I…"

Before she could finish what she was trying to say, klaxons started sounding overhead, the lights in the stairwell flickering for attention.

They stared at each other in surprise for a moment before leaping to their feet and running back into the control room. Abby wiped at her face with her sleeve, wishing she could waylay to the bathroom to wash away the remnants of her tears, but there was no time.

The ARC ground crew mobilized in a time that would have pleased even Becker. Texts with the location of the anomaly were sent to the absent Evan and Dylan, who immediately changed direction to meet them at the site. As senior ARC personnel, Connor and Abby found it a simple task to catch a ride to the anomaly site with the mobilized unit.

Just another day at another anomaly with another creature, only this time they were quite literally halfway around the world. Neither could quite hide the shine in their eyes, however, as they approached the huge glowing ball that had appeared between two tall trees, now bent at their bases by the arrival of something large and powerful.

When it came down to it, as they helped to pull out the achingly familiar equipment, they lived for this. It was who they were.

**~~~E~~~**

"Abby!"

How many times had she heard that cry? The one that broke in Connor's throat, that voiced the terror running through him unchecked, the one that told her that her life was in immediate and incredible danger.

She should have known better, she shouldn't have left the safety of the ARC, hell, she probably should never have left England, but there was no time for that now.

Just like there was no time for Connor to tell her what species owned the great set of horns about to gut her, her baby, to rip away their future when they'd only just begun.

She felt every moment of agony as if the world decided, just for these few seconds, to slow to an infinitesimal crawl, specifically so that when an ancient horn split open her flesh she was sure to feel every inch of it penetrate her soft skin.

How it hurt to lay there screaming, her tears mingling with her blood as she curled her body into herself, protecting her child the only way she could. Her arms were clasped across her stomach as if she could hold the little life away form it all, even as the creature thundered over top of them, driven on by the terrified sounds coming from her throat.

She hated that she was screaming in pain, in terror, in rage, for Connor, but she couldn't stop. The scent of her blood enraged the beast and she heard it howl, the very sound that made her shrink into the smallest ball she could become, barely recognizing the repeated popping of tranquillizer guns as the men around her fought to bring the creature down before it was too late.

She was starting to pass out; she knew it. The world swam around her, nausea rising in her throat as her screams turned to whimpers and everything slowly began fading to black.

Huh, she thought to herself as she recognized the feeling of being pulled into someone's (Evan's?) arms, her fading thoughts zeroing in on Connor's voice coming close.

"Look out!" she heard Evan call, "Someone get on the phone and get emergency out here, now!"

When did he start cursing, she wondered idly as a string of unpleasant words fell from his lips and she felt herself laid out in the back of a truck.

"We can't risk moving her any further. We'll get her patched up here, stop the bleeding, and wait for the paramedics to arrive." She heard him mutter 'and pray they're quick' under his breath, his head so close to her own that she could almost read his thoughts as he struggled to peel her ruined jacket from her shoulders, trying to expose her wound.

"What're you talking about? We've got to get her to hospital now! We can't wait!"

_Bless Connor and his incredibly huge, breaking heart._

"Connor, listen to me. We can't move her, we could hurt her or…" She heard Evan pause, she supposed he looked to Dylan for help because the next voice she heard was soft and lyrical.

"We could hurt her, or the baby."

She heard Connor's sudden intake of breath and wished to God she could open her eyes so that he could see the sorrow in their depths.

_I'm so sorry, Conn. Never wanted you to find out this way._

When she decided she was tired of apologizing for the growing mountain of mistakes she'd made, Abby stopped listening and let herself fall quietly to sleep.

At the very least she spared herself Connor's heart broken cry when it echoed off the inside of the truck, and she'd never have to know his look of wretched terror that stripped him of his will to hold back his tears.

In darkness, there was only her old friend silence. She welcomed it warmly as it took her away.

**~~~TBC~~~**

**In The Next Part:**

She knew the moment Connor couldn't take it anymore. His fingers curled into fists as he struggled to keep his mouth shut, his teeth grinding tight as he bit off every word of interruption that threatened to slip free, but after twenty minutes, his eyes flew open and he fell from the chairs with a loud thump.

**Coming Soon!**


	7. Chapter 7

Title: Reality Part Seven of Eight

Author: Roguie/ SunSpecOps/ Danae Bowen

Fandom: Primeval

Characters: Connor Temple/Abby Maitland

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Romance

Rating: M - violence, perceived death, sexual situations.

Word Count - Approx. 22k in total, this part 3800.

Spoilers: Set Post Series 5 - everything is fair game.

Summary: Sometimes life isn't what it seems, but the damage done while they believed it? Well, that is never easily left behind.

Disclaimer: Primeval quite obviously doesn't belong to me - if it did, I'd need a whole new rating for the things I'd do to Niall Matter. :D Please don't sue, my house is small, my car is useless and my dogs are pains in the arse, but they're all I have.

A/N: This fiction is what it is because of the direct influence of evenstar_estel, tay_21, wilemina_29 and prehistoriccat. Here we are folks, this is the last huge chapter before the epilogue - bringing this all together for the end. I hope the read was worth it - epilogue will be up tomorrow after work again (sorry Cat!).

**~~~E~~~**

She'd grown accustomed to opening her eyes, alone in a dark room, wondering what was real and what was fantasy. Part of the after effects of the virtual reality world was that Abby was never really sure what was real and what was part of that constantly rendering world that insisted on convincing her she had actually been there for years.

It was a surprise to open her eyes and find her hospital room filled with people, familiar faces and strange alike, all watching as the monitors began beeping quicker as she came closer and closer to the surface of consciousness.

"Is this the part where you tell me it was all a dream?" she asked quietly, offering a wry grin in Evan's general direction. He shook his head at her, rolling his eyes as he picked up her hand, pressing his lips to her fingers gently before glancing over into the corner pointedly.

"Someone's dreaming, but it isn't you." His grin was crooked as he sat on the edge of her bed, the two of them watching Connor snore, stretched out across two chairs, looking for all the world uncomfortable as the knuckles of one hand dragged across the linoleum floor tiles.

Abby groaned softly, shifting in the bed, her teeth closing over her lower lip as the events of the previous hours came flooding back while the nurse moved behind her, shifting her pillows to help her sit upright without as much pain. She was shown her call button for the nurses station and advised that she wouldn't be provided a pain button, purely because they were monitoring her doses for the safety of her baby.

It was a gentle smile of thanks and understanding she offered the nurse before turning back to Evan, eying Connor with a lifted eyebrow. "We've been through this a time or two, Connor 'n me, but he's never fallen asleep before."

Evan chuckled wryly. "They gave him a mild sedative about two hours after we got here. They had you in surgery, stitching up that hole in your arm, and he started getting ridiculously under foot. At one point they were counting his visits to the nurses station and when he'd gone a dozen times in fifteen minutes, they'd decided enough was enough. It'll wear off soon enough. Between it and the jet lag from the time difference, he's been sleeping like a baby for the last six hours or so."

Abby tried not to laugh, it hurt like hell, but a soft giggle managed to escape her lips. "How'd he end up like that?"

Evan scratched the back of his neck, his eyes swirling grey with embarrassment while Dylan laughed and appeared on the other side of her bed. "Connor started babbling incoherently, I'm fairly sure he tried to kiss Evan at one point, right on the lips too." The laugher increased as Evan's skin darkened and he avoided Abby's gaze. "Our dear Evan used his boyish charms to convince Connor that this is where he wanted to be waiting for you. When he fell asleep, we stuffed another chair under him so he'd be some kind of comfortable." She shrugged. "It may not have worked quite like we wanted."

"He's slept in worse places," Abby smiled fondly, shaking her head. "Trust me on that, yeah?" She sobered quickly as she shifted again and a sharp stabbing pain ran up her arm, settling heavily in her shoulder. "What'd I do to myself?"

Evan shook his head. "You know, I've been meaning to ask what it is they have you doing in England? We get to the anomaly site to find several juvenile Centrosaurus wandering about, and you and Connor jump right out of the truck and into the mix of it. We managed to bring down two, but the third took quite a liking to you. It was already charging before we were able to tranq it. You took the nose horn through your right arm, and nicked your brachial artery; I think you were in shock before the damned thing passed out. You bled everywhere, and I mean everywhere… never gonna get the stains out of the truck. Resale value's through the floor now, you realize?"

Abby rolled her eyes, offering him a weary grin. "I'll see that Lester reimburses you the cleaning bill, yeah?"

When the doctor reappeared to change the dressing on her aching arm, teasing her about the animals a little British zoologist should be careful around, Evan and Dylan excused themselves for the evening. When Connor opened his eyes, he and Abby would have plenty to discuss that didn't require an audience of their new Canadian friends.

Abby calmly chatted with the doctor a bit, her smile especially bright when he told her that as a precaution they'd done an ultrasound while she was unconscious.

"So, Miss Maitland, I have in my hand here a folder that tells us everything about the child you're carrying." He grinned widely, his personality clearly showing through while he waved the folder in the air. "Everything. Could there be anything you'd want to ask me?"

Abby's eyes travelled to where Connor was beginning to wake, his eyes drifting open, if a little bit glassy, the furrow of confusion that wrinkled his forehead growing deeper as he caught himself before falling from the two chairs. When he realized they were talking about the baby, however, he snapped his eyes shut, stilling his movements to hide his presence from that particular conversation.

Silly bugger, Abby thought quietly. Teach him to play games.

So, rather than ask the question that burned so fiercely behind every new mum's lips, Abby avoided the issue, instead spending long minutes inquiring after the medical side of her pregnancy.

The baby was well protected during the attack? The shock of it all wouldn't affect it negatively? The medications they had her on wouldn't harm the foetal development? How far along was she exactly? Which would make her due date when?

There were so many things she'd been unable to find out during the months she spent avoiding anything to do with England and Connor and the memories she wished she could bleach from her mind. She asked every question she could think of as they settled her into the remarkably uncomfortable hospital bed, the friendly doctor more than willing to indulge her need to know.

She knew the moment Connor couldn't take it anymore. His fingers curled into fists as he struggled to keep his mouth shut, his teeth grinding tight as he bit off every word of interruption that threatened to slip free, but after twenty minutes of prenatal care information, his eyes flew open and he fell from the chairs with a loud thump.

When they both turned to face him, Abby's expression knowing and amused, Connor looked up at them sheepishly, scratching at the back of his neck. He tried to catch his tangled, runaway thoughts and ended up frustrated by his lack of eloquent words.

"Oh, sod it," he finally ground out, turning all the more red as blue eyes sparkled in his direction and the doctor chuckled quietly. "Just tell us what it is, would you do?"

"Go on," Abby nodded at the doctor quietly, a fond smile breaking over her lips as she watched Connor pick himself up off the floor. "He's waited long enough," she paused, "For all of this."

She laid back with a gentle smile crossing her lips as the doctor slowly opened the file and Connor settled down beside her on the too small bed.

"Well, unless I'm missing something," the doctor paused for effect, grinning when Abby's eyes rolled at his obvious pun. "You're expecting a little girl. Congratulations!"

They must have been plying her with some pretty decent drugs, Abby figured, because within moments of hearing that she would be bringing a tiny little girl into the world, tears began the short path from her eyes to her lips, ending in a pool where her hands lay linked across her stomach, entwined in Connor's fingers. Once her tears began falling freely, his did the same, and they mingled together dampening the sheets that lay over their growing child.

"Why didn't you tell me…?"

"I'm so sorry I didn't say…"

They spoke at once, their thoughts once again focussed and on the same track. Connor deserved the truth and as the doctor backed out of the room, allowing them a quiet moment of privacy, Abby took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts.

She started at the moment she woke up from their shared nightmare, detailing how she found out, her running to tell him but finding him already gone, coming home and finding his note, the night spent crying at home and at the ARC, and her decision to come to Canada in an attempt to give them the space she thought Connor felt they needed.

As they talked long into the night, well past visitor's hours, Connor's presence gratefully ignored by the nursing staff on duty, Abby told Connor of the giant menagerie two hours down the road at CFB Chilliwack, and how the work she'd done there kept her going through their months of separation. She told him of her efforts to ensure the animals captured here had a chance at a better existence than the ones in London could ever hope for. There were no cement walls keeping the animals out of sight, no cell only twice the length of their bodies keeping the wild animals from roaming free. Here she'd been given the money and the freedom to ensure the creatures were as happy as they could possibly make them while they lived out the remainder of their lives displaced in time.

Connor grew quiet as Abby's eyes shone while speaking of her menagerie, and remained thoughtful throughout the days she spent in hospital, waiting for her arm to heal well enough to warrant her release.

It was only on the ride back to the block of flats that Evan had provided the team that Connor surfaced from the heavy thoughts plaguing him, and while his eyes were held to the road, he finally cleared his throat softly.

"You're quite happy here, Abs?"

She looked at him sharply, uncertainty reading in her blue eyes. She hesitated before nodding, a whispered, "Yeah," escaping her lips.

"More so than in London?"

She bit her lip and nodded, the cold tendrils of dread that had been chased away by his presence in the last week returning tenfold, clutching at her sensitive heart painfully. "I'm happy wherever we are." She couldn't help but stress the word "we", hoping he understood what she was trying to say.

Instead, he fell silent again, nodding to himself quietly as if some giant decision had finally been made. That silence lasted until they entered their flat, unpacking Abby's hospital bag and settling her onto the sofa.

She watched as Connor called the airport, stepping into the other room as he conversed quietly. She watched as he checked the time, frowning as he dialled the London ARC, pacing out onto the terrace as he spoke, the conversation growing heated as she watched Connor's back straighten, taking a strong position on whatever it was he was arguing. At one point she was sure he'd started yelling, but he'd shut the door to the terrace, which effectively blocked out all sound.

There were tears in her eyes when he finally came back inside. He hadn't even made it clear across the lounge before she began to tremble. When his face broke into one of his patented Connor Temple grins, she frowned in confusion, her teeth worrying her lip raw as she waited for him to speak.

"So, it's settled. Took some convincing of Lester, but that menagerie you love so much here? It's yours. I've cancelled the flight back to London, and Evan's said he'll be happy to have you on full time to care for the animals. As things would have it, Dylan's quite the hunter and trapper, but she's not much for the aftercare. Talked with her some before I knew you were here, yeah? Liked her pretty well. You 'n she'll get on fine working together on the animal end."

So. There it was. He wanted her to stay in Canada rather than return with him to their lives in London. There were those bloody tears again, filling her blue eyes before she could spare them any thought, tears that Connor mistook for happiness as he grinned at her like a fool.

"I know right? It'll be dead cool living in Canada for a bit, get away from all the politics running about at the London end."

She smiled weakly, nodding as she struggled wordlessly to come to grips with the fact Connor didn't even want to be on the same continent as her and the baby. Despair was just starting to become anger, her blue eyes coming to life with a dangerous spark, when Connor cocked his head at her and frowned.

"What's wrong?"

She shook her head, her absolute disbelief that he couldn't fathom what was starting to drive her ire into atmospheres as yet unrealized, stealing her ability to form coherent sentences.

"Abby?"

She watched as he replayed the conversation over in his mind, looking for whatever he may have said to bring about her rage darkened gaze, the heat flooding her veins forcing a dark tinge to her normally pale cheeks. The only thing that kept her from lashing out physically, letting the palm of her hand connect with Connor's cheek, or the knuckles on her right fist meeting the bridge of his far too cute nose, was the dawning realization that struck him dumb, that raised his hands and forced his head to shake desperately while he dropped to his knees in front of her.

"No, no, no, no! We're staying, Abs, you 'n me and the baby, we're all staying in Canada. I'll be working alongside Evan, 'm gonna continue me research here, Abby, here where you're happy 'n we have a chance to start over 'n be together, yeah?"

Oh, bless him.

Her rage instantly faded, tears sprang back to her eyes and she met his gaze just for a second to be sure he was being honest before she launched herself off the sofa and into his arms. The pain that shot through her arm when she connected with him didn't even register as she caught his face in one hand and turned him so that their lips mashed together in a sloppy, awkward kiss that cut teeth into lips and bumped noses, but to her it was perfect.

When they made love that night it was slow and steady, Connor unwilling to lose himself to the passion of being together for the first time in months when the bright white bandage around her arm spoke volumes of how much pain she still had to be in. When he laid her beneath him, it was with gentle hands softly gliding over her smooth skin, for the first time truly seeing the growing girth of her tummy indicating the life they'd created sleeping peacefully within. His lips trailed over the stretching skin at her abdomen, worshipping her with reverence as he slid up her body in a path of kisses that lit fire to the embers of desire that had gone too long without warmth. From nipples to throat his tongue dipped and dived, memorizing again the flavour of Abby that he'd never been able to fully get out of his mind, breathing in her scent, drinking from her with sweet kisses that left her trembling with undisguised want.

When he slid into her heat, so slowly sinking into the tight warm passage that she so eagerly offered him, his eyes closed with the effort of control he held over his every movement. Every thrust was long and gentle, every whimper that escaped her lips was swallowed by his own, every wave that crashed over her when she fell apart in his arms welcomed as he followed her across the precipice and joined her in the white heat of love fulfilled.

Later, when their bodies lay cooling as the sun sank deeply over the Vancouver horizon, the only words they shared were of love and forever because apologies were no longer necessary. In their hearts they knew they were mated for life, neither willing to live another day torn apart, soul mates each finding home in the other's arms, destined to be together until the very end.

**~~~E~~~**

Their friends flew out for their wedding - all of their friends. Lester, Becker, Jess, Matt, Emily, and even Jenny arrived in Vancouver on a brilliant autumn day, joining Evan and Dylan as they rode in white horse drawn carriages through the trails in Chilliwack Provincial Park, the light weight carriages easily travelling over the packed gravel paths, until they reached a small clearing outside Flora Lake. On some level they were likely breaking a few rules; the Park had no history of allowing the carriages or for that matter weddings within it's boundaries, but Evan's connections ran deep and no heads turned at the Post Creek parking lot when the trailers pulled in and began unloading horses from one and carriages from the other.

The wedding party had driven out the night before, staying in a motel only a half hour from the park entrance. The trucks bearing the horses and carriages drove in that afternoon, so the animals were fresh and ready to move as they began a slow trot into the woods, covering the distance between the parking lot and Flora Lake in forty minutes that the group used to enjoy the beautiful, and for once, calm scenes of nature that passed them by.

They came to a rest at a small clearing next to Flora Lake, the horses tethered and watered at the edge of the tree line, resting from their journey as the small group gathered together at the edge of the lake, their laughter and conversation quieting as the moment grew close.

The forest had altered with the changing season, the reds and oranges of the tree leaves glowing in the fading sun as Connor and Abby quietly and confidently spoke their vows, the minister they'd convinced into overseeing their unconventional wedding reading calm words, proudly announcing them as husband and wife.

The horses made the journey back to the parking lot at a walk rather than a trot, the return trip taking an hour and lit only by the lanterns hanging from the carriages and the autumn moon laying high in the purple sky. Limousines took them back into Vancouver, a two hour drive the group spent drinking champagne and eating hors d'oeuvres kept in the mini bar fridges in each vehicle. The drinking continued when they made it back into the city, at first as they descended on a random bar, continued when the limos took them back to Evan's penthouse where his stereo was immediately confiscated by Jess and the lounge cleared of furniture as they carried the party long into the night.

Abby for her part sat back and watched her friends celebrate her happiness. Her stomach was so large by this point that each time she joined Connor for a dance, Becker and Matt took bets on as to whether this would be the time she'd go into labour. She laughed them off, but as the night grew later and exhaustion began to take over, she was almost prone to agree. By the time she and Connor made their way back to their own flat, Abby could almost swear that one more move of her body would have that baby in her arms by morning; instead, she curled up in her bed, wedding gown and all, and fell immediately asleep.

Alas, their time together was gone too soon, their London friends flying back just two short days later. Promises to return when the baby arrived flowed freely with the tears that came when Becker and Connor had to pry apart Jess and Abby, only to start all over again when it was Jenny's turn to say goodbye.

It was only when all their friends had gone, when the Canadian team told them to take some time for themselves, when it was just the two of them laying in each others arms on their terrace overlooking the water, that the waiting for the completion of their family began.

She would be there soon, their little Adria Lillian Temple, and once again their life would start fresh, always looking to the future, never dwelling on the past. Together they were stronger than all that had happened, and now that they everything that they could wish for, they would never once look back.

**~~~TBC~~~**

**In the Final Part:**

It was the little things that struck the heaviest chord. When Adria first came home, they did the best they could at not comparing her to Jamie, not with her big blue eyes, the soft down of blonde hair that just barely shadowed her soft skull, her cheeks pink and plump, little red lips always curled up into a smile. She was a spoiled baby, her every need met almost before she needed anything, a store's worth of toys decorating the floor of the lounge and her bedroom.

**Coming Soon!**


	8. Chapter 8

Title: Reality - Part Eight of Eight - Epilogue

Author: Roguie/ SunSpecOps/ Danae Bowen

Fandom: Primeval

Characters: Connor Temple/Abby Maitland

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Romance

Rating: M - violence, perceived death, sexual situations.

Word Count: Approximately 22k in total; 1100 this part.

Spoilers: Set Post Series 5 - everything is fair game.

Summary: Sometimes life isn't what it seems, but the damage done while they believed it? Well, that is never easily left behind.

Disclaimer: Primeval quite obviously doesn't belong to me - if it did, I'd need a whole new rating for the things I'd do to Niall Matter. :D Please don't sue, my house is small, my car is useless and my dogs are pains in the arse, but they're all I have.

A/N: This fiction is what it is because of the direct influence of evenstar_estel, tay_21, wilemina_29 and prehistoriccat. Hah! I promised a roller coaster, did I deliver? Here it is folks, the end to this wild ride I've taken my self on, and hopefully a good lot of you all. This little piece here is a special gift to tay_21 and evenstar_estel who constantly poked, prodded, wibbled and laughed with me as I struggled to put this all together. Thank you, ladies, without you, I doubt Connor and Abby would have had such an ending.

~~~E~~~

It was the little things that struck the heaviest chord. When Adria first came home, they did the best they could at not comparing her to Jamie, not with her big blue eyes, the soft down of blonde hair that just barely shadowed her soft skull, her cheeks pink and plump, little red lips always curled up into a smile. She was a spoiled baby, her every need met almost before she needed anything, a store's worth of toys decorating the floor of the lounge and her bedroom.

At one point they'd considered leaving the flat that Evan had given to Abby the day she'd arrived on Canadian soil, the day she'd put all of this in motion, but they found having friends so close by comforting, an almost familial bond forming with their new team. Evan, himself, surprised them; scientist, independently wealthy, a bit of a daredevil, a lot of a player, to discover his love of children was perhaps the greatest shock of it all. Hardly a day went by when 'Uncle Evan' didn't stop in, swinging the tiny little girl up into his arms, playing with her every minute he spent conversing with Connor and Abby with regards to what was happening at the ARC. They could never be sure whether those talks were an excuse to visit Addie, or whether Addie was an excuse to ask for their advice, but either way, his presence was welcome.

Ten months to the day they brought Adria home, she took her first steps by herself - not holding her daddy's hand, not holding the coffee table or the sofa, all by herself, little Adria Temple crossing the lounge with these tiny stuttering footsteps that brought a huge grin to her face, blue eyes shining, her four little teeth flashing with the girth of her grin.

It should've been something beautiful to watch, this chubby, happy little girl so proud of herself, but in her place, Abby saw the ghost of her little boy that never was, tottering across a dark cave, so weak yet so determined as he took step after unsteady step. When the tears started to fall, the trembles shaking her body as she lay on her sofa, remembering a face that lived only in her heart, Connor leapt to his feet, knowing without pause that the pain in her heart mirrored the pain in his own, and that no words would ever be enough to heal the still raw wound of loss.

Instead of words, he reached down and scooped his little Addie into his arms, loving how her cries of "Dada" fell from her lips in giggles, her laughter contagious as he swung her around before dropping her in her Mama's arms, watching as her chubby little fingers immediately tangled in Abby's hair, her tiny face instantly resting in the crook of her Mama's neck.

"Mama," she whimpered softly, a little voice so full of innocence that her own blue eyes filled with tears at just the sight of Abby's. She patted Abby's cheek softly, her lower lip trembling as she waited.

"Oh, baby," Abby murmured, unable to stop the smile from breaking through her tears as she let the little girl snuggle into her body, immediately at ease in her Mama's arms.

The few steps she'd taken must have tired Adria straight out, because in moments of being in Abby's arms, her little eyes closed and she began snoring softly, a sound that never failed to bring a giggle to Abby's lips.

"She's your daughter," she grinned at Connor, the accusation now a familiar if not daily tease.

Connor settled beside his girls, resting his head against the back of the sofa, his hand coming up to gently stroke his little girl's back as she snored away peacefully. "I don't snore, I dream emphatically," he replied automatically, closing his own eyes as he rested against their warmth, comforted by the mere presence of his little family in his arms.

"Some nights you could emphatically dream me into the next room," she grinned, resting her head back, her breathing slowing.

"Lies, you'd never leave me bed, you'd miss me too much."

They'd said the same words a thousand times, but her own line died on her lips as she worried her lip between her teeth, sighing softly. "You never tell me what it is that you dream so emphatically about."

He didn't open his eyes, but his lips curved into a smile and he slid his arm around his wife, his finger into his sleeping baby's hand, before he answered her softly.

"Me life, Abs. I dream about me life." He yawned softly, snuggling down into her warmth. "There's nothing better out there, is there, then?"

This time when the tears came, he was far too close to asleep to see them, but it didn't matter. They were tears bred from happiness, from struggling to come the full circle they'd come and never wavering in their love for each other. Abby let her tears flow freely, unashamed of the salty trails that stained her cheeks, because Connor was absolutely right. There never had been, never would be and never could be anything better than their life right that moment.

They'd been given perfection.

She wouldn't waste a single second.

~~~fin~~~


End file.
